proud earls and dukes of Great Britain to the Joneses and the Stubbses of middle life have been considerable, and are not to be numbered among the least of the advantages which occurred to the public in the bygone memorable year." The last number of "The Architectonic Album," edited for the Architect's Union by STULER, KNOBLAUCH, and STRACK, at Berlin, contains "The Dwelling of the Merchant Tummely." A second edition, recently published, of the fourth number contains "The St. Peter and Paul's tides beneath the weight of their enormous burdens. There were immense plates, vast tureens of Cana, and all of those massive and singular dishes à la Gamache so characteristic of that bygone ancestral age which was so profound and artistic in matters of pots, pans, and plates. When this immense service was displayed on the table, the Marchioness came to examine it. Many of the articles were tarnished, scratched, and in such "evil condition," that she bade them He came, examined with care, and inquired: summon the family silversmith to renew them. Church at Nicolskoë, near Potsdam." RUDOLPH "Does Madame the Marchioness know of what material this service is made?" is said in our family that the set contains forty Certainly," she replied. "Of silver gilt. It thousand francs' worth of silver.” will be found in the "Architectonic Sketch-Book,- -a collection of Country Houses, Villas, &c., situated around Berlin, Potsdam, and other places. With Details." Published by ERNST and KORN, of Berlin. CARL FRIEDERICH SCHLEGEL has recently written a work entitled "The Principles of Building-Materials and Mason-Work." A very carefully-written chapter of this book is dedicated to stone bridges. It is accompanied with an excellent atlas, and, as it is extremely simple and intelligible in style, may perhaps be deemed worthy of translation, with reference to this country, by some one desirous of placing in the hands of the workman a useful treatise. In company with this, we may cite ERNST KOCH'8" Collected Experiences on the Preparation and Arrangement of different varieties of Cement," -a somewhat German title, as it strikes us. "Madame is in the wrong. The service is of that the plate had come into the family through Inquiries were instituted, and it was found a loan formerly made by the Marquis d'Aligre to a Dutch nabob. Here was an annual income of a hundred thousand francs which had slum bered silently in chests for nearly half a century! M. INGRES, one of the most celebrated chiefs of the modern French school of Painting, has determined to bring out, in the book form, and with descriptive letter press, engravings of the complete collection of all his productions (after the manner of the Liber Veritatis of Claude), from the commencement of his career down to the present time. Simple designs and rough sketches are to be given, as well as great and laboured pictures. In the PHILOSOPHIE DE L'ART, of Clemence Robert-a work which, notwithstanding its wild, irregular mysticism, still deserves a more extended reputation than it has hitherto enjoyed-we find the following remarks on Ingres. "In the midst of those excited colourists who were conquering nature in all the truth of her A correspondent of "Kuhne's Europa" writes local tints and secular guises, arose Ingres, insistfrom Dresden that a number of humorous drawing upon the great maxim of tradition, He cried ings, sketched by the pencil of SCHILLER, and accompanied by descriptions in his own hand, have been found in the possession of a Swabian family, with whom the great poet became acquainted during his residence at Loschwitz. The committee for the erection of a monument to the memory of the celebrated CARL MARIA VON WEBER, notwithstanding that the necessary funds are wanting, has been so bold, confiding in the patriotism of the Germans, as to order the execution of the statue of the great musician, by the hand of PROFESSOR FEITSCHEL. It will afterward be cast in bronze. From the "Courrier des Etats Unis" we learn that a work of Art of great interest, particularly to its owner, has recently been discovered in Paris. The Marchioness de Pommereux-daughter of the late millionaire, the Marquis d'Aligrerecently entertained at dinner a large provincial party. Wishing to serve them in lordly style, the idea occurred to her to disinter, from certain vast armoires and chests of the olden time, a set of silver-gilt plate, of the days of the stathouders plate which she had not seen since her infancy. Ladders and steps were brought, and soon the valets were seen advancing, bending like Carya aloud in the midst of the feast that the most seductive terrestrial pomps, and the most fairy-like hues, allied to the liveliest expressions, are as natight when separated from the Divine. "A poor pilgrim here and there in holy Italy for half his life, the great Ingres, obscure until 1830, did not till late, succeed in bringing to triumph the reconciling idea at which he, without losing faith or courage, had worked for Delaroche, less real and less lively in his colours, twenty years. Graver and more solemn than he is the austere prophet of our paintings, of which other artists are but the historians and poets. He brings again into the midst of our frivolous luxury, the majesty of a sacred style. David and Canova had said, 'With Christian principles no beau ideal is possible among the ancients only did Art exist-let us become Greeks and Romans!-They were believed, the Middle Age was about to be utterly destroyed, and it was even denied that it had ever possessed aught that was great. Then came the reaction, as furious as the attack; but INGRES appeared as peacemaker, saying 'Antique Art was beautiful, so too is the Christian, and it will become more and more so, as it returns to its own principles.' For Ingres everything is tradition and truth." DEAR reader! we know that you have thus far religiously read through your May number of Sartain, and that you have found very many things in its pages to please your delicate fancy and refined taste:-but we know, too, oh, charming one! that you await the unfolding of your editor's budget, as the crême de la crême of your repast; and we must not disappoint your dainty anticipations. Nor should we, in truth, when the only trouble in the case can be l'embarras des richesses;-a comfortable, corpulent, respectable embarrassment, that, let folks grumble as they may, they are never very anxious to be extricated from. Rare contributions from the realms of Literature, Art and Science-ay, Science! as you will presently see-have we prepared for our pet department. We smile good-humouredly-we are always a rather happy-looking personage-as we proceed to our sorting, Such a melange! We are really getting into the old quandary, of not knowing where to begin. If we were in the country, the thing would be settled at once; we would write you an exquisite rustic revery that should immeasurably distance all the Ik. Marvels, and Peasant Bards extant. Nay, on second thoughts, we should write a series of them, and entitle them, not "Gemo-graphs," though they would be gems of the first water, "sans doute," but that title is already appropriated to a new and wonderful style of engraving; nor "Hurry-graphs," for Willis has monopolized that cognomen; but we would call them "Leisure-graphs," or "Sartain-graphs," or simply "Our-graphs," or we would hunt up some other euphonious and appropriate prefix that should be admirably expressive of our subject, retaining the popular "Graph" as a termination, to make the thing take. But we are not in the country,-unfortunately, our vacation is a long while off; there is nothing within ken, but an interminable continuity of bricks and mortar,-and you remember, for of course you read everything we saythat we have already defined our position as to "makebelieve" inspiration. What a wearisome thing this city life is, with its "tedious dispensation" of conventionalities; every day we grow more and more sensible of its falseness, and long to bury ourself (figuratively) in a wooded paradise, among flowers and trees, and birds and bees, away out, anywhere. Nay, we have selected the very spot we mean to escape to, one of these fine days-a pleasant place wherein to write our pastorals. In the meanwhile, read you Stoddard's "Carmen Naturæ Triumphale," and as a substitute for our deferred RuralGraphs, be pleased to accept this charming "Lay of the Spring," by Emily S. Brown;-received just in time for he very page it is wanted for. A LAY OF THE SPRING. O, joy of Spring! I hear the young leaves whispering; She riseth like another morn; O songs of Spring! O, love of Spring! O, life of Spring! She cometh on immortal wing; E. S. B The youthful author of the following graceful stanzas. received the "Honorary Degree" at the recent com mencement of the Philadelphia High School. We notice. with pleasure, several promising aspirants for literary distinction, among the graduates of this excellent insttution; keen debaters, and eloquent orators, too, are growing up among their number, and we predict that some of the future most distinguished "grave and potent seignors" of our legislative halls, will have made their maiden speeches in the "Forensic and Literary Circle," organized by the pupils of our free College. But you are waiting for the poem. ALL THINGS LOVE ME. I have sat by a ruined bower But around its moss-grown pillars The green old ivies clung, And their arms to breeze of summer, Or wind of the winter, flung; With a summer sky above me, I have looked on the dwelling lone, And thought that "some things love me," As the ivy loves the stone. I have strayed where golden lilies And, pressing the beautiful flowers I thought that "some things love me," I have passed by many a garden Where the bride of the sun bloomed bright, And it bent to its ardent bridegroom, In the blaze of his noontide light; I saw it turning towards him, As his daily course was run, And I thought that "some things love me," As the flowers love the sun. I have heard the lark's light carol, And its song, as it flew towards heaven, And listening to the echo, As it fell from the bird on high, I thought that "some things love me," As the sky-lark loves the sky. I have heard the dash of the torrent, And seen through the misty spray, The fall of the laughing waters Gleam in the light of day; I have been where the Father of Rivers Rushes, with waters wide, From the crystal lake of the mountain I have seen the rose and the orange From all I learned a lesson, As taught by those above; And I knew that all things love me, For Nature's law is love. Nature's law is reciprocity. If you are in doubt whether "All Things Love" you, ask your own heart if it loves all things, and the first query is answered by the second. A truce to sentiment. Attend you, in your gravest and most dignified mood, while we reveal, for your edification, a page of our scientific researches and resources, first confessing, in all seriousness and honesty, that we have been led to the consideration of blending practical instruction with our æsthetic entertainment by the severe criticisms of a certain writer in the "Democratic Review," who recently entered into an elaborate exposition of the demerits of " Parlour Periodicals." Desirous of redeeming our own Magazine, at least, from the alleged charge of "frivolity," we have planned the series of original developments, which, as will be apparent at a glance, must prove of immeasurable importance, and tend to the enlightenment of thousands of bewildered and benighted students. SCIENTIFIC. Beginners in Astronomy will thank us for presenting here THE FOUR QUARTERS OF THE MOON. As the learned keep dark upon the subject, and the moon itself offers no reflections to elucidate it, we must presume that the analogy with other four-limbed creatures is preserved, and the "fore-quarters" are lighter than THE "HIND QUARTERS," of which we offer a cUT. The learner must not confound THE LEGS OF THE TRIANGLE with the moon's limbs, nor suppose that the cuts have any connexion with the eclipse. Lunacy, of which one type is moon-a-mania, takes its name from the moon, because that orb governs the tide, and, hence, men who are tied; though it does not follow that tide-waiters are lunatics. Mild as the moon appears, men have often been struck by it—at least by its beauty. What, indeed, could be more striking than a view from Jupiter of all his moons at once? There we might often be delighted by that pleasing phenomenon of MOONS IN CONJUNCTION, seen from the top of some "heaven-kissing hill." ILLUSTRATIONS OF METEOROLOGY. A RAIN-BEAU AND WATER-SPOUT.-A gentleman offers his umbrella to a lady, while the water pours on his shoulders from a dislocated eave-spout. THE SON DRAWING WATER.-The boy is at the well, while the father stands with a switch to compel obedience. This is a sign of a bad reign. A THUNDER-BOLT.-This rivets attention to the storm. Can only be shown in illumination by lightning, particularly when the thunder is heavy. A SUDDEN SQUALL-Illustrated by a ship's buoy and farmer's boy knocked about by head breakers. A HIGH GALE.-Winds having no colour but in the past tense, as rose and blew, this is represented by old gentlemen in the background "raising the wind," as shown by the "dust," while their sons are in the foreground, "raising Ned." The peculiarity of this gale is that after a thorough blow-out there's no calm. A FALLING STAR.-The portrait of a great Actor in growing disgrace:-a phenomenon belonging to the 17th century, we believe. A LUNAR BOW.-A photographic likeness of Diana's bow, showing the chaste goddess in the chase. A MOCK SON,-which is figured by a girl in bey's clothes, as this typifies a projection from one sphere to play "shines" in another. The exhibition closes with a true pieture of a We DEY, being a sketch of an Algerine governor, just taken from-the sea. As your perceptive faculties have doubtlessly been SCOTCH MISS'D.-A dissolving view of fugitives from immensely strengthened by our lucid explanations and Flodden Field. SUN-DOG.-A wood-cut of the tree whose boughs and bark make the bays of Apollo. This we may suppose to be dog-wood. The same phenomenon is called by some authors illustrations of the foregoing phenomena, we think at were safe to leave you unaided to puzzle out the interpretation of our Rebus, promising that the application of its sententious moral shall not be found wholly inappiscable to place and position. N ONE CENT LIND MERICA 1852 Not satisfied to rest our character for erudition solely upon our achievements in science, knowing the presage of profundity imparted by antiquarian lore, and believing that Mr. D'Israeli had not yet monopolized Yarkee "Curiosities of Literature," we determined on collecting some rare specimens ourself. As a first result, we have the pleasure of introducing you to a highly imaginative poem, entitled "The Ruined Tavern," which start.ngly reminded us of Poe's celebrated "Haunted Palace." Query,-which is the original? We are mystified. What a discovery it would be, at this very day, when a thousand poetasters are busily engaged in imitating the peculi ties of Edgar Allan Poe, to learn that the great poet borrowed the idea of one of his finest compositions from some "inglorious Milton,"-some too modest and retiring son of genius! THE HAUNTED PALACE. In the greenest of our valleys Never seraph spread a pinion And every gentle air that dallied, Along the ramparts, plumed and pallid, Wanderers in that happy valley, Through two luminous windows, saw Spirits moving musically,' To a lute's well-tuned law, Round about a throne where, sitting (Porphyrogne!) In state, his glory well befitting, The ruler of the realm was seen. And all with pearl and ruby glowing Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing, And sparkling evermore, A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty Was but to sing, In voices of surpassing beauty, The wit and wisdom of their king. But evil things, in robes of sorrow, Assailed the monarch's high estate. (Ah, let us mourn!-for never morrow Shall dawn upon him desolate!) And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed, Is but a dim remembered story Of the old time entombed. THE RUINED TAVERN. In the darkest of our alleys By the Ethiop tenanted, Once a dark and dingy tavern- Never negro took a "nip" in Fabric half so black and bare. O'er its door, with fancies golden, And many a dusty cobweb dallied, Along the rafters dark and squalid, Strangers, wandering through that alley, With form and features well befitting, The keeper of the place was seen. Once many a black, with anger glowing, Stood round the tavern door, Through which came noises, rolling, flowing, Discordant sounds, nor rhyme, nor reason, Of Christiana-Kline, and Treason, Then Marshal Keyser, large in office, The place was doomed; And down to Moyamensing bore he And strangers, now, who pass that alley, Or "Take your time, Miss Long," And laugh-but smile no more. Reader, we have been imposed upon! Like many of our illustrious predecessors in the same pursuit of MS. treasures, we, in our anxiety to make out a case of mystery-had entirely overlooked facts that were staring us in the face. As soon as it was suggested to us that the "Christiana Trials" were a modern invention, we understood the whole matter. "The Ruined Tavern" must be only a parody, after all,-the localities, not of classic celebrity, but of Philadelphia notoriety. Here is another specimen of Yankee Bon Gaultierism. THE MINSTREL BOY. The minstrel boy to the war is gone; And his wild harp swung behind him.- The minstrel fell!-but the foeman's chain And cried, "No chains shall sully thee, Thy songs were made for the pure and free; ANSWER TO ENIGMA IN THE MARCH NUMBER OF BY JEANNIE PARKER. The sun was rising, glad and bright, A nation's natal day; While, waving o'er the village green, The Flag was furled at eventide ; OUR EMBELLISHMENTS. THE ALDERMAN. And a waiter stands behind him.- One watery mouth shall prize thee." I'll cram thee down this throat of mine;- DICK DARLEY. he then drew from memory, of Cooke, Jefferson, and other actors, were deemed so extraordinary as the productions of one destitute of the advantages of artistic training, that he was in 1811 sent to London to pursue the study of art under competent teachers, and in due time he attained that high rank he still holds. The picture, so well known by engravings, of "Sir Roger de Coverly going to Church," was among the first that established his fame. His style is vigorous and truthful, and his pictures show the care with which the draperies and all other objects in the composition, are painted directly from nature. THE CORSAIR'S ISLE.-This beautiful engraving, from the burin of Albert W. Graham, is after one of the most effective of the works of J. D. Harding. It illustrates a passage in Byron's poem of "The Corsair," and represents the bark of Conrad leaving home, while the bereaved Medora stands weeping at his departure. "He's gone!"—against her heart, that hand is driven, Convulsed and quick-then gently raised to heaven; She looked and saw the heaving of the main; The white sail set-she dared not look again; But turned with sickening soul, within the gate'It is no dream-and I am desolate!'" THE AVALANCHE, is a remarkably spirited engraving on wood, after a design by Karl Girardet, and finely illustrates Mr. Richardson's article in this number. An admirable paper by the same author, entitled "Men, Manners, and Mountains," will appear in our next. Harding is a very distinguished painter, in both oil and water colours, but eminent, chiefly, for his crayon drawings of landscape and architecture, unsurpassed, and THE FORGOTTEN STRAIN.-This fine print, the first in unsurpassable for the amount of character and effect order in the arrangement of the present number, is en-produced, by the smallest possible labour. graved by Mr. Samuel Sartain, whose talents have already placed him in a very high position in the profession he has chosen. The beautiful work from his burin, in the "Friendship's Offering" for 1852, entitled "“Mary,” is worthy of all, and more than all, the commendations that have been bestowed upon it. The original of "The Forgotten Strain," is by Charles R. Leslie, who, for the past quarter of a century, has deservedly enjoyed a reputation, as one of the first artists in England. Many still reside in Philadelphia, who remember him when a lad serving in the bookstore of Mr. Bradford, in Chestnut Street, below Fourth. The portraits in character which OUR LIBRARY TABLE. COMPARATIVE PSYCHOLOGY AND UNIVERSAL ANALOGY. VEGETABLE PORTRAITS OF CHARACTER, Compiled from various sources, with original additions. By M. EDGE |