with them to pay formal visits. But even then she was the object of my adoration. Soon after my mother's second marriage I was sent to school, and the Vernons left the neighborhood; but I always remembered the lovely little child, and it so happened that she was often at the seaside places we visited in the holidays. Wild schoolboys and much-looked-after little girls do not know much of each other; and even when we did meet on the sands or the parade, John, who is two years older than I am, got all the benefit of the few remarks she made, and when he had said his say, he cried to me to "Come along," and I obediently went along, and cast no "longing, lingering looks behind." My stepfather-"the Governor" was the title he liked the best- -was too young and full of life to suit Mr. Vernon's sobriety, so that the acquaintance of the elders of the two families became more formal than ever. When I was about fourteen, and John close on his seventeenth birthday, our mother suddenly sent for us from school in the middle of the half, and never shall I forget the evening of our arrival at home. My mother was tearful, and a little cross, poor soul; the Governor serious, silent, and depressingly unlike himself. 66 Boys," said my mother, when the servants had left the room after dinner, "I have sent for you home to tell you bad news. The fortune which was mine, and which was to be yours afterwards, is all gone - dwindled down to a few paltry hundreds a year, partly through Captain Franklin's mismanagement of my property, and partly through his inordinate extravagance." We were astonished at the warmth of my mother's tone, and quite as much startled at first by the sight of these two at odds, who had always hitherto pulled so well together, as by the news so abruptly told to us. "It is true," said the poor Governor. I can see him now, reddening to the roots of his hair as my mother, with a fling of her white hand, seemed to point him out to us as some one we must look at to despise, and giving her one reproachful glance which made her burst into tears anew. "It is true. Your mother's money has dwindled down to a sum which she rightly says is paltry when compared with what it was, and what is far worse for you to bearthis old home that you love so, must, I am sorely afraid, be sold." income, and that my mother went to live with my brother, Richard Manners. He had, at a great sac his own immediate comfort, saved our home from t mer by purchasing the estate himself, and he sent to school, and afterwards to college, paying our e partly out of his own purse, and partly out of the of my mother's fortune. A few weeks before my death (which took place in less than two years a Governor's departure), she confessed to me how she regretted that her unforgiving spirit and hars had driven from her side the husband with whom so happily lived for nearly seven years. Aurora Vernon seemed to haunt my college life her "with childhood's starry graces lingering y rosy orient of young womanhood," bright and bea some gay gathering, or flitting through the colle halls with some party of sight-seers; but I was al shy to turn my previous acquaintance with her to although I was on speaking terms with her brot was at the same university with me. But I do steps during her stay, and wrote quires of rhapso honor, and she was to me the embodiment of all radiant and lovely. And I still so thought of he went up to town to fill a diplomatic post obtaine by my uncle. I think I had been in London near before I met her. It was at a dinner-party, and I ately (being no longer shy) got presented to her renewed our acquaintance under very favorable stances. It rested with me now whether I lost sig again or not, for her mother was disposed to be and asked me to call. It so happily chanced th her almost everywhere, for many of her friends w mine, and frequent meetings, and the prestige o quaintance, established between us a familiarity me was the height of happiness. How lovely she was! Tall and delicately made one bit fragile-looking, with a complexion as tinted as a wild rose; with sunny hair that a tonight had flowers nestling in its glistening ripples graceful gait that made you think of dancing, a over breezy downs; with sunny eyes that seemed the eyes they looked into shine with reflected bri with a sunny smile too, that was the very soul of and a laugh that was the very soul of mirth: W der was it that we young fellows loved her and homage, and that older men envied us the pri dancing and flirting with her? I looked hastily at John; I knew how he loved the place, and how he, as being next heir, took a greater pride in it than I did even. The trial was for the moment too much for the usual boyish shyness we had about showing our feelings. His brow contracted, he colored, started to his feet, and turned round to the Governor with a quick “Oh, I say, not that!" It was natural enough, and the Governor, though horribly disconcerted by it, felt it to be so, for he looked pityingly and affectionately at John as he said, And I am the cause-I am to blame." I shall never forget it. My mother's sobs, and the Governor's face full of misery, made me inclined to cry, but John was master of the occasion. After that involuntary outburst, he had sat down again, and all traces of his violent emotion were banished from his face before the Governor had finished speaking, I think. "Look here," he said, getting up, and, boylike, see-sawing from one leg to the other, and putting his hands in his pockets look here, what does it matter? There's money enough left for mother to be comfortable, and we'll go and work, we three, for ourselves. What's the good of a shine? No one's dead, no one's ill; so it might be worse. Look here, Governor," laying his hand on the shoulder of the poor dear Governor, who, quite cast down, was resting his head on his arms on the table- -"look here, mother, what does it matter?" "It does not matter a bit," said I, following suit with hearty good-will. "Where's the use of a shine? We were but boys, and "young for our age," as the saying is, and we did not express ourselves elegantly, but we meant what we said. There was a shine in spite of all we could say, and the result of it was that the Governor went off to Australia, to farm on no capital and very little For a year I was entirely happy, seeing her alm and sharing with many others the sunny smiles im bestowed. It soon seemed to me, however, that ferred my companionship to that of any other of merous acquaintances. To me she would talk w vivacity and openness than she displayed in a con with others; for although she was always animate was a slight reserve sometimes even in her li which those who knew her best could detect in a "I can't think why you are so cool to Watty M I said to her once, when that youth left her parently a little hurt at receiving only short a albeit polite, answers to his little sprightlinesses. good-looking, and smart enough in his talk to ple women, I should say." "Yes; and he waltzes beautifully. But since for a fact that his sister refuses all invitations bec has no dress good enough to visit in, I have felt to cut him." My heart sank. Was I going to discover that was after all nothing but a worldly girl who despi erty? I said wonderingly,— "Why, what upon earth has he to do with it?" "Well," she said in a low voice, "we all know style he lives his expensive lodging his horse I understood her; she did not like Maxwell be was selfish. I said that perhaps his people hid f that they were so poor. She shook her head, sm me the while, and went on to say, "And I cannot endure Mr. Hinton, he is always ing from other men's merits; nor Mr. Jackison, who is always quoting the Scriptures at improper times, and apropos of everything; nor Mr. Goldie, whose talk is like nothing so much as the jingling of money." I rallied her on her warmth; but this little confession explained to me how it was that one or two of the most attractive of those who thronged around her were the least favorably regarded by her. Some meanness that our less fine instincts might never have detected in them had offended her pure nature; and though always gentle and courteous, she reserved all her warmth of manner for those in whom the faults she particularly disliked had not been revealed to her. She smiled on all, she danced with all, but she did not talk to all. Every one said she was lovely; but there were a few who said she was slow. Slow! with that joyous laugh, and those sunny charms, and that quick admiration of anything bright and beautiful? Slow! when she could talk about anything but doctrine, politics, and wickedness; if not always with judgment and correct taste, at least with sincerity and vivacity? But she did not, as I have said, always give the "one word in the ear to those to whom she gave the "one touch of the hand;' and those who were thus excluded from the inner circle of her entourage were such men as those above mentioned, and those were they who thought her slow. She was certainly a little unforgiving, for although she smiled her recognitions of those who left her circle, her smiles were cold and momentary; for who can be good-tempered under the imputation of slowness? Ah me, what happy days have I passed in her society, listening to her singing or her lively talk! I like to recollect how the feeling that would have been only sober appreciation of what was good or beautiful was kindled into glowing admiration by a spark from the fire of her enthusiasm. I like to recollect how she helped me to build my innumerable castles in the air with words of such hearty encouragement and sympathy, that I was tempted to add turret to turret and wing to wing, until even Gustave Doré's pencil would have failed to do them justice. And I love to recall her looks of pity and her words of kindness to any one in trouble or sorrow; to remember her cheerful and ungrudging dutifulness to her parents, and the thousand other womanly graces and virtues that she possessed. I loved her from the first hour of my meeting her in the first glory of her young beauty; but I need hardly say that I could not ask her to marry me on two hundred a year. I never even thought of doing it; and as she did not seem to expect it, and showed no signs of loving any one else, and as her mother did not resent my constantly being in attendance, we lived most happily in familiar intercourse; and the familiarity, so far from breeding contempt, only made more apparent the beauty of her disposition, and did not diminish the favor with which she appeared to regard me. Langford certainly gave me a heartache for one whole day by saying that "this kind of thing cannot go on forever;' and as his wife only looked grave when he said it, I felt quite unhappy, and even thought that Aurora herself looked less bright than usual when I found myself in her society in the evening. Things were in this state when I got that attack of bronchitis that nearly knocked me over. What a time of misery it was! I shudder now at the remembrance of those dreary nights when I lay awake staring at the fire, every nerve racked by the sound of my landlady's snores. for the kind soul always insisted upon sitting up with me, but never by any chance kept awake. In the rare hours of sunshine we had during that dismal wintry weather, Aurora would come herself to ask after me, and her clear young voice found its way up to my sick-room, and re freshed me like a breath of summer air; and I used to feel hat the sight of her was the only thing which could hasen a recovery that the authorities pronounced to be a deidedly slow one. It was in the first days of my convalesence that I got the news of my uncle Richard's death, and John's accession to the greater part of his fortune. It had always been considered likely that John would come into omething handsome at the death of one who had so nobly come to our help in our time of need; but we had never dreamt that his generosity would be extended to me, who had not exclusively devoted myself to the care and amusement of his declining years, as my brother had done. When therefore I heard that a handsome share of my uncle's property had fallen to me, I was overwhelmed, and John's grateful remembrance of his benefactor could not be more heartfelt than mine. He had given back to John his old home and his place in the world; but for me he had removed by a stroke of his pen the mountain of impossibility that had stood between me and happiness in the landscape of my future. (To be continued.) FOREIGN NOTES. A NEW Operetta by Johann Strauss, entitled "Doctor Fledermaus," is in preparation at Vienna. IN Antwerp a new Flemish opera by J. Merten, named "Thekla," has been produced with success. THE Czar will this summer again visit Ems, taking up his residence as usual at the "Four Towers." He humorously calls these "Four Towers" his summer quarters. A CURIOUS novelty has been introduced at Parisian dinner tables. It is to have on the back of the menu a short biographical notice of the persons who compose the company. ROMAN excavations of late have been somewhat fruitful. On the Esquiline a perfect statue of Juno, two others representing Camillus and Esculapius, six statues of Venus, most of them headless, and about forty pieces of a colossal female statue, not yet named by the antiquarians, have been unearthed. Near the gate of San Lorenzo, half a mile from the railway teminus, the remains of a forum, surrounded by arcades, has also been discovered. The necessary foundation for what is now commonly called "Roma Nuova" is daily adducing fresh evidences of the extent of the "Old Rome." THE late Alexandre Dumas is now asserted to have left three unpublished dramatic works, in addition to the drama of "La Jeunesse de Louis XIV.," produced this week at the Odéon. One is a 66 Romeo and Juliet," in verse, quite complete, and which was to have been produced in the Odéon in 1869, but was shelved on account of a difficulty in finding a suitable Juliet. The two others consist of part of a drama, "The Death of Porthos," a piece written at the actor Dumaine's request, and three scenes of "Joseph Balsamo." Dumas is said to have felt dissatisfied with all three of these works. THE French papers, and critics, and actors, and managers are in ecstasies of admiration and of grief relative to Desclée, yet in her life she had a hard time of it; it is said that her earnings were so inconsiderable that she nearly always had to suffer from privation, and to live a life of great economy, being obliged to walk home from the Gymnase at one o'clock at night, to save three francs for a cab. Sentiment in the bosom has seldom any connection with hard cash in the pocket. M. Dumas will shortly publish the correspondence of Mlle. Desclée, together with a memoir of the distinguished actress. AN amiable old gentleman of our acquaintance used to say, when any one did anything particularly ridiculous, "All the fools ain't dead yet, and won't be as long as I live, I expect." Certainly there is at least one gigantic simpleton alive in England, the weak-minded person who writes this from Rochester to the editor of the London Athenæum : "Permit me to suggest that an edition of Dickens's Works should be brought out in classical English. The words used in the author's works are extremely disagreeable to read. I think that the language of the lower orders ought never to appear in print." We should like to possess a photograph of the phrenological developments of the man who wrote that. "Jeemes Yellowplush" never did anything more delicious than the last sentence. THE Levant Herald states that M. Lifonti, a well-known local artist of Constantinople and manufacturer of stringed instruments, has just perfected a most ingenious piece of mechanism, which, applied internally to pianos, greatly assists the beginner and early student in the practice of that instrument. Several of the best pianists of the city have tried the new invention, and warmly approve its artistic simplicity and ingenuity, and its practical utility. It in no way alters the tone of the piano, but the practiser who uses an instrument to which it is applied acquires speedily a force and gradation of touch and facility of execution which it takes long and laborious pains to master under the old system. THE drama in China has come into serious collision with the constituted authorities, as witness the following curious proclamation which has been recently issued at Shanghai: "Whereas the literati of Shanghai, Chêng Kuei-yin and others, have petitioned, setting forth that on the foreign settlements the numerous theatres encourage dissipation, and lead to good people being contaminated by contact with the bad and that in the case of the actor, Yang Yélin, his examination has brought to light proofs of a life of immorality. They therefore pray that he be severely dealt with, and that a proclamation be issued, ordering all heads of families to control their female members and not allow them to enter the theatres. On receipt of this petition, it becomes the duty of the police magistrate to request the Mixed Court magistrate to issue a prohibitory notice to the above effect; and be it hereby known to all people of this town that the heads of families are ordered to restrict their women and prohibit them from attending the theatres, in order that the morality of the place be not injured. Let each one tremblingly obey." It is only fair on tobacco to point out that it is gradually clearing itself from many of the serious charges brought against it. It has been frequently and persistently alleged that among other ill effects (besides death and madness) produced by tobacco is destruction of the teeth. This, it appears, is entirely a mistake. Instead of tobacco causing the teeth to decay, it is the very best thing in the world for them, and those who wish to preserve their teeth should immediately take to smoking, if they have not already indulged in the habit. At a lecture on teeth, laughing-gas, and electricity as connected with dental surgery, delivered last month in London by Mr. Thomas Brown, the lecturer observed that it was popularly considered that the practice of smoking deteriorated the teeth. "There could," he added, "be no greater fallacy. It was true that it sometimes discolored the teeth, but it did not cause decay; on the contrary, it prevented decay on acccount of the disinfecting properties of tobacco smoke." This leaves the British Anti-Tobacco Association and other kindred bodies in a very disagreeable position, for it destroys all confidence in the awful predictions they are in the habit of uttering as to the fate of smokers. If tobacco does not injure the teeth, but is in fact good for them, perhaps it does not shorten life, but is feven favorable to longevity. IN a note to the editor of The Academy, Mr. F. J. Furnival throws some fresh light on a much-disputed passage in "Romeo and Juliet." He says: An enormous amount of needless difficulty has been made over this comparatively simple passage by so-called emenders of Shakespeare. These folk have first created the puzzle, and then puzzled themselves and their readers over it. Juliet says: "Spred thy close curtain, Love-performing night, These "run-awayes" are therefore beings who can see and vagabondizer, that Juliet alludes to? It was C in 1611, gives "Fugitif... gadding, flitting, runneaway, runagite gone, of no continuance. "Roder. To roame, wander, vagabondize it, rogu run up and down, flit here and there, trot all the counti Roder les rues. To jet, walke, trot up and down (especially anights), to see the town served. Rodeur: m. A vagabond, roamer, wanderer, stree highway-beater; a rolling stone, one that does nough here and there, trot up and down, rogue all the countr Vagabond. A vagabond, roamer, earth-planet, idlesbie, ranging or gadding rogue. "Trotteur an earth-planet; a roamer, gadder, up and down." Een Vagabondt, a Vagabond, or a Runnegate.” 1660.) Shakespeare's runawayes, runagates, or runabo the rodeurs des rues with a different object, men w leave no young lovers " vntalkt of and vnseene,” light lasted. THE Paris correspondent of the Pall Mall Ga the following account of the new old play at the "La Jeunesse de Louis XIV.” has at length formed at the Odéon now that the author is dead a and is unable to reap the fruits of his posthumo The comedy of Dumas the elder was originally me Théâtre Français, and he is said to have written in three days; it was accepted by the manage censors mutilated it to such a degree that the au drew his work, had it performed at Brussels, spite dedicated it to a well-known Republican of of Noël Parfait. Dumas the younger recently t the piece for the Odéon, and it is said that t phrases, one which Prince Bismarck might have showed themselves more indulgent and merely c objectionable, and another on clemency, which not a Conservative virtue. In the first act we XIV. falling in love with Mazarin's niece, Mari whilst Anne of Austria is endeavoring to bring marriage of her son with the Princess Marguerite and whilst the Cardinal is bent on trying to Charles out of France. It is in this act that which are rather dull, are taken up with the presented to his Majesty. The second and passion of Louis for the Cardinal's niece and the project of Mazarin, who sees himself uncle of Has not the whole Court seen his Majesty, whil from a storm beneath an oak in the wood of kneeling at the feet of Marie Mancini? There ing scene here with a real pack of hounds. In act many mysteries are unravelled, and the K is sorely wounded. He discovers that he has a person of the Comte de Guiche. In the fifth a a King; he taps his boot with his riding-whip "L'état c'est moi" - the briefest Constitution ever had. He dismisses the Parliament, a announces to Marie Mancini the termination of t love passage. Marie protests, then yields; she the satisfaction to see her Royal lover moved Dumas puts in her mouth the words attribute more than one memoir: "Vous êtes roi, vous je pars." And Louis allowed her to depart, but a pang. He consulted Mazarin, and told the Ca he loved his niece; but, on the other hand, t Spain offered him peace and his daughter. advice I demand," says Louis. "Shall I marry or the Infanta?" Mazarin throws himself at his Majesty, and counsels him to marry the Inf interest of the glory of his King and the grandeur So the curtain falls, not on a wedding but on a the patriotism of an Italian churchman who France under strange conditions and even wher exile. Nothing that acting, scenery, and dress was spared to secure the success of "La Jeunes XIV." EVERY SATURDAY: A JOURNAL OF CHOICE READING, PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY, 219 WASHINGTON STREET. BOSTON: NEW YORK: HURD AND HOUGHTON; Single Numbers, 10 cts.; Monthly Parts, 50 cts.; Yearly Subscription, $5.00. N. B. THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY and EVERY SATURDAY sent to one address for $8.00. MONTHLIES AND WEEKLIES. SOME surprise has been expressed in England at the sudden discontinuance of the Saint Pauls magazine, a monthly, and the substitution by the publisher of a new weekly called The Saturday Journal. The Saint Pauls magazine was regarded with favor, and there seemed to be no more reason why it should suddenly die, than should any one of the many monthly magazines of its class, published in London. Perhaps there is no reason why the rest should not follow its course; at any rate, the publisher darkly hints at this, when he explains that the change was nade, "for reasons connected with the present aspects of popular literature in general, and the relations of shiling magazines to the wants of periodical readers." Explains, we say, though we do not ourselves feel much wiser after this oracular statement. We leave the question of English monthlies and weekies, and ask, in the case of our own literature, if there is ny reason to suppose that monthlies are going the way of the quarterlies, and that weeklies, like the lean kine of Pharaoh, are to swallow all the fat cattle. In a previous aper we have undertaken to show that periodical literaure is gaining in strength in America, and to explain why he current of American thought and art should set in this irection. It certainly is a fact to-day that authorship nds periodicals rather than books its best medium, both or reaching a wide audience and for earning a livelihood. Setting aside those who have a distinct official connection with journals, as editors and staff officers, the men and Tomen who are not journalists but littérateurs, who would Iways, other things being equal, prefer to write books, nd themselves writing for the magazines and papers, and sither vivisecting their books into magazine articles, or fterward combining these articles into books. We do not for ourselves see any real conflict between Ponthlies and weeklies, and the only effect of their rivalry, 1 our judgment, will be to define more exactly the limits f each form of publication, and by a process of natural election to determine the character of literature which ach should include. There are certain conditions in the ublication of each which help to fix this. It is evident, or example, that the very size of a monthly magazine nables it to present special topics with a deliberateness hich the weekly does not permit. A writer who desires > treat some literary topic, as Miss Preston, for example, reated "Mistral's Calendau" in a recent number of the tlantic, requires the space which a monthly alone can ive; the interest of the article ought not to be suspended y an arbitrary division into two or more papers for a eekly. There is, besides, a certain leisure about a onthly magazine which renders such an article more in Race there than it could be in a weekly. Again, there e questions of importance which daily newspapers and eekly journals are examining with frequent returns, but e journalist is hampered by his limited space and the patience of his readers, who are only snatching their lunches of reading from him; and it is not only a relief to him, but a positive gain to the fair and full discussion of the subject, when he can review the whole matter under many aspects in the more generous scope of a magazine article. So, too, a writer whose subject weighs upon him too heavily to permit his writing an entire book, may yet deliver himself with force and satisfactory fulness in a magazine paper. "I must write a pamphlet or I shall burst," Dr. Arnold used to say, and pamphlets with us are generally articles in monthlies. When it comes to what is more distinctively literature, there also remains a distinct field for the monthlies. It is true that the weeklies may divide with them here the claim for many forms of literature. The short poems will oftener be found in the papers. The Spectator, for instance, in England, prints more good short poems than any of the monthlies, and that our monthlies print the best short poems is because the literary air is clearest as yet round the magazine; given a good literary weekly, or one having such elements as The Spectator, and sonnets and novels, too, may be published in monthly or weekly, and short poems would set toward it most surely. Serial we suspect that in time the weeklies will outstrip the monthlies in this respect, but they will always be at the disadvantage, which the monthly has in a lesser degree, of compelling the novel-reader to interrupt his reading in an arbitrary fashion, and to a certain extent of requiring the writer to adjust his story to the exigencies of publication. But the magazine must have the advantage still of giving short stories complete, as a weekly cannot; of printing poems too long for a weekly and too short for a book; of containing romances which would be grievously wronged if cut in sunder; of giving whatever would be best read at one sitting, yet required by the conditions of its art to describe a parabolic curve in its movement. Then, too, in the department of criticism, while it is true that weeklies could criticise, and the whole body of criticism which appeared in one number of a monthly could be divided into the four numbers of a weekly, it also remains that the writer of criticism for a monthly enjoys the privilege of full and thorough analysis which the crowding of other material in a weekly is not likely to permit, and he has besides the advantage of working less for immediate publication, and more for perfection of treatment. We have hardly more than touched our subject, and have quite left out any definition of a weekly; of that at another time. NOTES. "A Satchel Guide for the Vacation Tourist in Europe "is the modest title of a hand-book first issued by Hurd and Houghton, New York; The Riverside Press, Cambridge, in the spring of 1872. The book was enlarged last year, and has been still further improved the present season. It is, as its sub-title declares, a compact itinerary of the British Isles, Belgium and Holland, Germany and the Rhine, Switzerland, France, Austria, and Italy. It differs from other guide-books in describing one continuous route, arranged to take in the maximum of what is best worth seeing, with the minimum of travel. Indeed, its excellence is discovered in what it does not contain, as well as in what it does. It does not bewilder the reader by a great variety of expensive routes of inferior interest, nor does it give valuable space to the propagation of twaddle. The poetry which it quotes could all be got into a page of the book. It is a book moreover for the tourist who is not ashamed to travel economically, and it assumes him to be a person of seli respect and intelligence. We mention some of the points in which the book may claim special value. 1. Is introductory hints. These thirty pages are full of brief suggestions for the tourist in making his preparations for the journey; his travelling impedimenta, the books to consult, the provision for money, the various steamship lines, etc. 2. Its method. It leads the traveller by an intelligible route, carefully chosen, to bring in the most notable sights that one would wish to see, in a trip of a few weeks' duration. 3. Its exact information. Like Baedeker's books, this is scientific in its arrangement of distances, prices, hotels, modes of conveyance, and constantly gives the traveller useful hints, saving time, money, and vexation. 4. The traveller's calendar. An entirely new feature, giving the time and place of ecclesiastical and popular festivals, pilgrimages, fairs, etc. Many a traveller has just missed a most interesting local celebration for lack of this useful guide. 5 Eminent preachers. A list of the most noted preachers in Edinburgh and London, with the places of service. 6. Maps, occupying two pages each, not flapping out from the book, nor tucked into pockets, but handy for reference and free from needless details. The book is stoutly bound in red leather, and the experience of travellers who have used it thus far is most heartily in its favor. It is unquestionably the most satisfactory, cheap and thorough guide to be found either at home or abroad. One of the most noticeable of the minor excellences in Mr. Gilman's "First Steps in General History," just ready by Hurd and Houghton, New York; The Riverside Press, Cambridge, is the reference made to books that will further inform the reader. Every little while one finds a foot-note referring not so much to authorities for statements in the text, as to illustrative books, like Shakespeare's plays, Scott's novels, or books recounting particular periods of history. In addition to these there is a suggestive bibliography at the close of the volume, giving the names of books that may be consulted in each division of the history. This will be helpful both to teacher and scholar. We like the author's reference to books which are not generally considered histories, for a reader who knows a period only by disjointed facts has missed the truthfulness of the picture, and that will be supplied by the romance of Walter Scott, the moral lives of Plutarch, or the character sketches of Shakespeare. The book becomes thus not only a textbook, but a guide to historical reading, and an enticement to ready scholars. - Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper gives th a series of cartoons, "The Modern Dance of D Matt Morgan, and the printing over a strong ti a series for The Tomahawk, of London, execute same artist several years ago, which attracted at deserved attention. One especially, "The Phaeton," was marked by singular vigor of The present series begins well. It has for its sub and, with just a suggestion of Holbein, sets squar the eye a stony-faced beast with a slow danci carrying on his back Death, with half-concealed the Devil, who holds a basket of bottles. The tr these two figures is conventional, but the Devil's as it hangs carelessly over the basket, has an devil-may-care look, while his right, clasping De to point significantly but not obtrusively to h His leering look is thrown back at a viper that its head from under a stone as the steed p landscape behind is of blasted trees, - before i of a church that fronts a village over which the ting. The telling vigor of this picture is in st trast to the forcible-feeble political cartoons artist has been drawing. With no knack a faces, and no heart in his cause either, we susp been squandering talent merely as an oppositio man. When he makes such drawings as these b willing or unwilling employé of any party or p -A sharp competition is growing up in t States to secure emigration from Europe. T ing of companies of emigrants is fast superse method of individual emigration. The Board Louisville has been advising the city to establi of immigration, and has invited Mr. Arch to co tucky on his next tour in this country. It better for the emigrant that he should come nite plan, and choose his residence with some his form of industry and his preferences as r ciations. There is only a temporary disadvan from bodies of foreigners remaining together instead of being dissipated in the community. few problems more interesting socially and pol those started by the formation of society in the the impulse of organized emigration. - We notice in an English paper a sugge has been made more than once on this side of that in addressing letters, the name of th should be made prominent and that of the p from which the letter is sent and all transferri the road have no interest in persons, but only office destination. If that is made bold and the middle of the envelope, there will be less mistakes when letters are sent. Then, each le by an office will be handled by a person supp familiar with the name of the recipient of the so disposed of. In fact, such a mode of addres The New Orleans Times calls attention to the proj-ceive the letter subordinate, on the ground th ect for protecting the lowlands of the delta from overflow. Formerly the system of levees, though imperfect and piecemeal, was yet under the control of men who had knowledge, foresight, and means to keep it in some sort of good repair; since the war, the riparian proprietors have failed to do even the little that was done before, and the consequence is a great depreciation in the value of lands. The report of Humphreys and Abbot on "The Physics and Hydraulics of the Mississippi River" considered the best means of protecting the lowlands and rendering available for agriculture seven million acres of land capable of raising a bale of cotton to an acre. The Times calls on Congress, since it has undertaken to centralize government, to set in operation measures to this en 1. It is not unnatural that government should be so called upon; but if a sounder, more righteous policy had been pursued by the government toward Louisiana, we might have hoped that the State would be in a position now to do the work herself. INDIANA CENTREVILLE would only be carrying out still further the ex tice in post-offices, which put all their Indiana together, and all Centreville letters into a wr dressed, unburdened with details. |