w

I will give you Bread of Angels, sweeter far than any honey

Whiter far, in its clear sweetness, than the snow of Leda's love

In the South-Land, far away, beneath the skies forever

sunny,

It was dropt upon the golden flowers in dew-drops from above. T. H. C. "You had better introduce a note at the bottom of my poem, saying that 'Minor' means Lighthouse or Pharos. I forgot to do so. See that your printer does not print it 'Miner,' or 'Minir,' or in God knows what other way." As the above postscript fully answers the desired purpose, we made "a note on it." Another original scrap, too good to be lost, we copy from G. S. B.'s latest communication. If our facetious friend has any more of the same sort, he will please send them along: "Wit and worth have many trials to endure in this world; but not long ago, in a public trial in a sister city, wit was served well for once; better than worth, perhaps, even there. To present a girl with $400 worth of silver, just for a joke, shows that the minor struck not only a very facetious vein, but a very rich one. But, alas! for the judges, who must be serious ex-officio, to be compelled to read 1,400 puns, is a punishment of a severity hitherto only inflicted on criminals. The conundrum which did not take a prize, was not sent, so we produce it here. Why were the New York wits like the Seiks on the banks of the Sutlege? Because they cruelly mangled the English in the Punjaub (pun-job)."

A

OUR ENIGMAS.-The interest manifested in this feature of the Magazine is exceedingly gratifying to us, as its introduction was a pet fancy of our own, founded on our admiration of Praed's beautiful lyrical charades. numerous corps of volunteers regularly transmit to us metrical answers, for the most part giving the correct solution, but sometimes very funnily missing it. George S. Burleigh, writing to us about the "Views from a Corner," which we shall continue regularly to engage,says, "On the other leaf you will find a little enigma, which I have composed for your playful department; if it is usable, you are welcome to it. Were I a draughtsman, I would sketch appropriate illuminations." The said enigma is very ingeniously constructed, and susceptible of pictorial illustration, but it is too short to form one of our regular series, and we prefer issuing it as an extra:

MY FIRST.

In the glance of the sun, when the young birds sing,
I start in my beauty to gladden the spring;

I weep at the morning marriage, and smile
On the evening tomb, though I die the while.

MY SECOND.

I wander, I sin; but a breath can make

All my frame an effeminate nature take; And a manly dignity, that as well

Can of mastery and lordship tell.

MY WHOLE.

I have started the world to jeering and mirth
Since, that earthly, I dared to withdraw from the earth;
Yet I stay, though cut off in my prime, far more
Enlivening and life-full than ever before.

G. S. B.

This will require some smart guessing to construe it aright. Mr. Ellsworth, will you try? And will you not try the next, which was not written for us, but is one of Praed's best. Miss Mitford, in her recent publication of "Recollections of a Literary Life," declares that this charade, which is quoted among other specimens of Praed's poetry, always remained a mystery to her. It is a mystery to us, and we copy it now, in the hope of extracting information from our readers as to its true meaning. What were the two syllables uttered by Sir Hilary?

"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."

Miss Mitford makes a singular revelation on a kindred subject, that is more puzzling to account for than the puzzle itself. She contends that the famous enigma on the aspirant "H," commencing with "Twas whispered in Heaven, 'twas muttered in Hell," and universally attributed to Lord Byron, was written at Deepdene, by the poetess Katharine Fanshawe.

An answer to our February enigma, though rather out of date, we are induced to find room for, because it is an unusually successful attempt for a beginner, which, from the wording of the accompanying note, we infer the writer to be.

ANSWER TO ENIGMA IN FEBRUARY NUMBER OF SARTAIN'S
UNION MAGAZINE.

Oh! why is the Lady Margaret sad?
Her lands are fair and wide,
And many a lord of gallant mien
Hath wooed her for his bride.
In the castle's hall a festive band
With dance and song are gay;
Thro' the old chapel's lonely aisle,
The flickering moonbeams play;
Why doth the maiden linger there,
Unmoved by pleasure's call,

Is it to bow the suppliant knee

For one more dear than all?
The morning opens bright and clear,
The hounds impatient wait,

To hunt the stag, a jovial train

Pass thro' the castle's gate;
But Margaret seeks her lonely bower,
Where none her grief may spy,
Save the old minstrel, who hath watched
His lady's tearful eye.

To cheer her mood, he bids each string
With notes triumphant sound,

From Palestine her lover comes

With victory's laurels crown'd.
Alas! fair lady, idle all

Such blissful dreams must be,
For never more that noble form

Thy longing eyes may see.
Torn from his neck, thy parting gift,

The jewelled cross and chain,
And in its place accursed hands
Hath left the bowstring stain.

Nor trusty blade, nor valiant heart,
Could ward Sir Florice' doom:
The dungeon cell-the Moslem cord-
A dark, uncoffined tomb.

F. S. G.

Our Rebuses have also received a reasonable share of attention. By the way, we are glad, in this connexion, to acknowledge our indebtedness to Mr. Ellsworth, for all the designs of these ingenious riddles that we have published in the present volume. His artistic skill in such delineations is quite equal to his talent in the corresponding branch of literary composition. The following replies will serve as sufficient expoundment of our series of Proverbial Problems, which was only commenced in the December number. They were furnished us by "Nobody," but we have "Somebody" to thank, for all that:

ANSWER TO REBUS IN DECEMBER NUMBER OF "SARTAIN'S MAGAZINE."

Ay, sit you down, and mend your gown

My pouting lass, take warning;

The adage old, you've oft been told,

Had well been worth the learning:
A stitch in time-mind ye the rhyme-
Saves nine of after darning.

ANSWER TO REBUS IN JANUARY NUMBER.

More galling grew the British yoke,
Heavier the taxes day by day;
Our Yankee sires refused to pay,
And stern their earnest protest spoke,-
And Britain learned to dread the sequel,
When far and wide throughout the nation,
There rang the glorious declaration-
All men are born free and equal.

ANSWER TO FEBRUARY REBUS.

Sure it might save a long repentance,
Early to learn the wise deduction
Imaged in this pictured sentence,-
Pride ever goes before destruction.

ANSWER TO MARCH REBUS.

Fields tickled well in spring, 'tis said,
When the year has gained its prime,
And autumn's wealth around is spread,
Will laugh in the harvest time.

"NOBODY."

OUR EMBELLISHMENTS.

THE MAGIC LAKE is the first in order of the embellishments in the April number, and was designed expressly for this work, and used in illustration of Mr. Hirst's beautiful poetic story of "The Pilgrim of Love." One of the articles in the body of the Magazine being devoted to this artist, it is needless to repeat here anything more in relation to him personally. The engraving furnishes a tolerable idea of the general style of composition and effect in Mr. Hamilton's pictures.

OLIVER CROMWELL BEFORE THE BATTLE OF DUNBAR.

-This plate, by Serz, of this city, is after a fine picture by Schorn, an eminent German painter, and it may be regarded as a fair specimen of the modern school of painting in that country. Cromwell is here represented as less bluff and burly than we are accustomed to think of him; but then the portrait we know him by was painted later in life, after he became Protector. This subject is sufficiently illustrated in the article in this number of the Magazine, by Mr. Kingsbury.

THE MULETEERS ON THE MOUNTAIN PASS is an admirable engraving, by Croome, of Philadelphia. The original picture was exhibited in the collection of the Louvre, at Paris, in 1850-51, and enhanced the already high reputation of the artist, M. Eugene Giraud. Mr. Klapp's story in this number is so well done, that it would be hard to tell whether the story was written for the picture, or the picture painted for the story.

THE LESSON is a spirited engraving on wood, by W. J. Linton, and represents one of the most attractive of the pictures exhibited in the Gallery of the Old Water Colour Painters' Society, in London, in the spring of 1846. To indicate its merits, it is only sufficient to remind the reader that it is from the pencil of Frank Stone, the author of the numerous pictures rendered familiar to the American public, during the last few years, by the series of large framing prints, so finely engraved by Bellin and Simmons.

that have induced him to write this book, which may e briefly stated thus:-First, very little is accurate known, in this country, about the English Universites Secondly, much of what we do know comes through the medium of popular novels, &c., and is not written by university men. Thirdly, and principally, because he conceives there are points in an English education that may be studied with profit, and from which we may draw valuable hints.

So much for the purpose, which has resulted in the compilation of a work of some 900 pages, issned in tam remarkably neat duodecimo volumes, but which, to e taste of a vast majority of Mr. Bristed's readers, woul have been pronounced more readable if compressed m one-fourth the space.

Elegant and correct diction is the first excellence c the book; a sort of self-glorification, not arising from conceit, but rather from the delight of his heart in rece lection of what was, perhaps, the pleasantest part of his life, makes the first defect. The second chapter is er titled, "Some preliminaries, rather egotistical, but sey necessary;" this were quite pardonable if the egotism stopped with the preliminaries, but unfortunately we have many particulars throughout very egotistical, and by no means necessary. His own position in class, de amount of "cram” accomplished, and of copy "got up,” his frequent disappointments, and occasional successes. are very frankly and fully stated. Indeed, the minute ness and diffusiveness of petty details regarding the Cantabian service, before the close of the first volume, becomes excessively tedious.

From the reading of this work, one would be led to suppose that the attainment of mathematical or classical honours in an English University was the only object worthy of a gentleman's ambition, as if the mastery of "conic sections," and "Greek Anapests," were the real problem of our destiny. Three hundred pages of the second volume are occupied by the appendix, mi consists merely of collegiate exercises, which we are happy to think are not likely to be appreciated beyond the circle of our learned Professors; to the generality of readers it will be Greek indeed.

"Life is real, life is earnest," and it seems worse than

folly to have so many of its best years wasted in porang over the literature of the buried past. Let us see.-Mr Bristed entered Yale College at the age of fifteen, remained there a student some five years, then sojourned for an indefinite period at New Haven, and afterwards toiled through five more years at Cambridge, thus fishing his education (so called) at the mature age of twentysix,-a melancholy statement. It is well that so few of our young men can afford the three or four thousand dollars per annum absolutely necessary to the support of a Fellow Commoner, and well is it that fewer still have the taste to wade through so much pedantie drudgery We do not need this aristocracy of scholarship; there is too much real work to be done yet in our young Repab lic-problems better than Euclid's, worth the solving. presented by the advent of every destitute emigrant upon our shores, by every cry for want, that is still heard even in our land of plenty.

The physical exercise practised by the Cantabs" presents us with the pleasantest part of their system. The "constitutional" walk of six or eight miles a day habitually observed without regard to weather, wis ge far towards repairing the ravages of dissipation or me severe study. One of the most attractive chapters in the book contains a graphic description of a boat-race on the Cam, a classic stream that just escapes being wist enough to allow two boats to work their way peacefully side by side. Of indoor amusements, a taste for wur and ale drinking forms a very decided feature; a taste in which Mr. Bristed has quite an un-New-Englandsh sympathy. But we do not feel called upon to lecture on temperance or even to insist on its strict observance by an intended clergyman, were it only for example's sakeand therefore will not interfere with this particular predi

not desirous of entering into a critical examination of the several points wherein he differs from high authorities, but shall proceed to extract one or two suggestive passages of particular interest. In his lecture on Hygiene, rightly regarded as the great science of prevention, we find the following sensible remarks:

"I have left myself very little time or space to treat of Municipal or Public Hygiene,-the most neglected, yet, as it seems to me, the most truly important of all the departments of political economy. Men have devoted time enough, ineffectually, in continuous efforts to relieve suffering and punish crime. I do not deny that these are proper objects of attention; but surely, if we can by any method prevent crime and suffering, this should be our paramount purpose; and I fully believe that the physical destitution of the poor is the chief cause of intemperance. vice, and disease, among them. I fully believe that, if one-half the amount expended in hospitals and almshouses, prisons and penitentiaries, were appropriated with judgment to the care of the physical well-being of the wretched class with which these institutions are filled, the remaining moiety would be far more than sufficient for the necessities that now, with the most unsatisfactory results, consume the whole. Extreme poverty, one of the saddest and bitterest of curses inflicted by an angry Heaven-extreme poverty, the double cause and consequence of disease, is the most prolific parent of crime."

A writer in Blackwood recently professes mystification as to the meaning of the "solidarity" of the human race. Our author reveals a consciousness of its real import that may, perhaps, tend to the enlightenment of some of his readers.

"It would be Utopian to imagine that any effort can altogether preclude, among men constituted as they are, the infliction of this curse of poverty upon the improvi dent and imbecile. But it is possible to diminish the number of its victims, and to evade the diffusion of its malignant influence beyond the circle of its inevitable presence. Policy, as loudly as humanity, demands that this should be earnestly attempted. The rich man, in his luxurious cabin, may be infected by the ship fever of the miserable emigrant in his crowded steerage. Pent up within the thronged area of a great city, he will likewise suffer from typhus, generated in the lanes and alleys, hovels and cellars, among which he must reside, or whose pestilential breath he must inhale in passing. The citizen who will not provide for the enforced purification of the streets and houses about him may soon become the victim of the miasms eliminated there; although his own proud palace may seem, by its admirable architecture and its comfortable appointments, elevated far above the sources of such miasms. We are linked inseparably together, the rich and the poor, the lofty and the low. Our voyage across the great ocean of existence must be made in one common bark, wafted by the same favoura ble breezes, tossed by the same rough billows, and wrecked in the same rude tempest. Nothing human can be foreign from us,' whether we regard the affairs of our race with the genial sentiment of the Roman dramatist, or look upon them with the cold and calculating eye of the selfish voluptuary."

In the concluding chapter, on "Death," the Doctor expresses an unusually intense appreciation of the evil of "pain."

"In the admirable liturgy of the churches of England and of Rome, there is a fervent prayer for protection against battle, murder, and sudden death.' From death uncontemplated, unarranged, unprepared for, may Heaven in mercy deliver us! But if ever ready, as we should be, for the inevitable event, the most kindly mode of infliction must surely be that which is most prompt and brief. To die unconsciously, as in sleep, or by apoplexy, or lightning, or overwhelming violence, as in the catastrophe of the Princeton, this is the true Euthanasia."

that suffering by the use of anæsthetics, even though hastening entire prostration of the system.

That the closing hour of life was intended to be but as the falling into a quiet sleep, a painless transition, it were not presumptuous to suppose, if we did, or could, live in strict accordance with the laws of nature; but if for years, through wilfulness or ignorance, those laws have been violated, the penalty cannot be escaped at last.

"A common case presents itself from time to time t every practitioner, in which all hope is avowedly ertinet, and yet, in consonance with uniform custom, stimalants are assiduously prescribed to prolong existence a the midst of convulsive and delirious throes, not to de looked on without dismay. In some such contingences. where the ultimate result was palpably certain. I have seen them abandoned as useless and worse, in order tha nature, irritated and excited, lashed into factitious and transitory energy, might sink into repose; and have a a melancholy satisfaction in witnessing the tranquil so soft and gentle, that soon ensued; the stormy agitate subsiding into a calm and peaceful decay.

"I hold fully, with Pascal, that, according to the par ciples of Christianity, which in this entirely oppose the false notions of paganism, a man 'does not possess power over his own life. I acknowledge and maintain that the obligation to perform unceasingly, and to the last a utmost of our ability, all the duties which apperasa our condition, renders absolutely incompatible the righ supposed by some to belong to every one to dispose ti himself at his own will. But I would present the core tion for the serious consideration of the profession whether there does not, now and then, though ver rarely, occur an exceptional case, in which they me. upon full and frank consultation, be justified before (-a. and man in relieving, by the efficient use of anesthetes. at whatever risk, the ineffable and incurable angust 3 a fellow-creature labouring under disease of orgine te structiveness, or inevitably mortal; such, for exam as we are doomed to witness in hydrophobia, and ensi more clearly in some instances of cancerous and fig degeneration, and in the sphacelation of organs sectssary to life, or parts so connected as to be indispensa yet not allowing either of removal or restoration

The effect upon the mind, when hovering near dr valley of the shadow of death, like that upon the body. is more determined by the character of the disease tr of the sufferer; and we are wisely and eloquently war ei of the fallacy of our judgment formed on the apparent tranquillity or terror then demonstrated.

"We cannot too often repeat that the religious pra dice which argues unfavourably of the previous cocoal and present character from the closing scene of an ag tating and painful illness, or from the last words, amidst bodily anguish and intellectual confusion, is cra and unreasonable, and ought to be loudly debourned We can well enough understand why an English Eur beth, Virgin Queen, as history labels her, could ar still for a moment, agitated as she must have beca storm of remorseful recollections, nor restrain her shrieks of horror long enough even to listen to a prayer Б. how often does it happen that 'the wicked has no banis in his death; and the awful example of deep despar the Stainless One, who cried out in kis agony that he was forsaken of God, should serve to deter us from the day repeated and shocking rashness of the decisions aguas which I am now appealing."

MEMORIES OF THE GREAT METROPOLIS; or, London fre the Tower to the Crystal Palace. BY F. SAUNDERS New York: G. P. PUTNAM. 16mo., 315 pp. Fram A. HART.

The name of London brings with it a confusior of lustoric and poetic associations. From the time we are d enough to read the marvellous story of Whittington 170 his Cat, we entertain a restless curiosity to explore the thousand wondrous places of interest situate in 2e Great Metropolis. A curiosity strengthening with our streg and not unfrequently leading, when circumstances per

bid inducing the lesser gratification of an eager perusa of every new work that appears about England and the English." To both classes of travellers-the furt nate ones who actually cross the Atlantic in an ocean steamer, and they who must be content to make the voy

age, while cosily resting in their own Yankee homes-this complete and elegant manual of Mr. Saunders' deserves favourable reception. From the Tower to the Crystal Palace-through every nook and corner the home or haunt of genius-London has been ransacked, in the endeavour to set forth briefly and suggestively its "various memorabilia." To the intelligent tourist, especially, are these "Memories" valuable; for with far higher literary merit than works of the class so denominated, it is, in reality, the best "guide-book" we have ever seen.

The volume is got up in handsome style, and is embellished with a large number of engravings, representing the different points of interest described.

THE LIFE AND WORKS OF ROBERT BURNS. Edited by ROBERT CHAMBERS. New York: HARPER & BROTHERS. 16mo., 350 pp.

This work is to be completed in four volumes, the first of which we have received. The Editor needed an apology for undertaking anew a task already partially accomplished by the pens of Currie, Cunningham, Lockhart, and other distinguished writers among his countrymen; and the best possible apology is offered, in the superiority of arrangement and fulness of detail that is furnished us in the present compilation. In connexion with many additional biographical particulars, clearing up confused passages in the life of the poet, we have the poems chronologically arranged and interwoven, with the narrative of the peculiar circumstances or cause of emotion that led to their production. Mr. Chambers is enthusiastic in his admiration of the genius of Burns, but is not afraid of acknowledging his moral infirmities. He has endea

a copious introduction to the various uses of the work, with critical and practical observations on Orthography, Syllabication, Pronunciation, and Rhyme, and, for the purpose of poetry, is added an index of allowable Rhymes, with authorities for their usage from our best poets. By J. WALKER. A new and revised edition. Philadelphia: LINDSAY & BLAKISTON. 8mo., 706 pp.

The copying of the title page of this valuable work seems to us the most efficient notice we can give of its publication. In our community, where every third per son is contributor to a magazine or newspaper, or author of a book, the advantages presented by this excellent dictionary must be highly appreciated. To give our readers a clearer understanding of the various uses of the volume, we copy the following note of its arrangement and purpose:

"1st. The whole language is arranged according to its terminations.

"2d. Every word is explained and divided into syllables exactly as pronounced.

"3d. Multitudes of words, liable to a double pronunciation, are fixed in their true sound by a rhyme.

"4th. Many of the most difficult words are rendered easy to be pronounced, by being classed according to their endings.

"5th. Numerous classes of words are ascertained in their pronunciation, by distinguishing them into perfect and allowable rhymes."

This edition is got up in very handsome style, with careful and elegant typography. The book was wanted, and must meet with an extensive demand.

LYTTON.

Philadelphia: A. HART, 126 Chestnut

SONGS FOR THE HEART AND HEARTH STONE. BY MRS. R. S. NICHOLS. Philadelphia: THOMAS, CowperTHWAIT & Co. Cincinnati: J. F. DESILVER. 8vo., 320 pp.

A very charming volume, in regard to its poetical contents, artistic embellishments, and admirable typography. The writings of the accomplished authoress have become very generally known, by her contributions, during the last eight or ten years, to different American magazines and journals. The delicate sentiment, felicitous expression, and warmth of feeling that distinguish her effusions have been widely appreciated, especially in the West, where her poetry is enthusiastically admired. An edition of Mrs. Nichols' earlier poems having been entirely exhausted, the publishers have been encouraged to issue this new and elegant collection, embracing her finest productions. This volume is embellished with several line engravings, after designs by Hicks and Warren. The one entitled "Life's Promise" is remarkably beautiful, possessing the peculiar effect that rendered the works of Richard Westall so extensively popular, but without that artist's mannerism. There is also a portrait of the talented authoress, engraved in stipple, by Mr. Anderson, which is pronounced an excellent likeness by Mrs. Nichols' friends. The book is inscribed to Nicholas Longworth, a gentleman of Cincinnati, whose liberal patronage of American artists earned for him, years ago, the highest regard of the profession. When the Artists' Fund Society of Philadelphia was established in 1835, one of their first acts was to elect Mr. Longworth an honorary member, as a testimony of their esteem for his services in Art. At that period he is said to have possessed the finest collection of American pictures, not only in the country west of the mountains, but even in our Atlantic cities.

A RHYMING, SPELLING, AND PRONOUNCING DICTIONARY OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. To which is prefixed

Street.

Once having passed the prefatory pages that form a stormy prelude to her story, we find this novel itself, in several respects, the most favourable specimen of Lady Bulwer's authorship that has yet appeared. The title is a misnomer, but for this the lady is not accountable, as she specially explains in that same vixenish introduction: "I must farther assure them (the public) that I had no voice even in the christening of my present work, which I had called, up to the point to which it was written, 'Molière's Tragedy, His Life and Times,' but I was told that the exquisite taste and penetration of the circulating libraries must be consulted avant tout! So, as usual, author and book were immolated at the stake of a trashy title; and, as what cannot be cured must be exdured, it is now launched as 'The School for Husbands.'" However, the selection made by her ladyship was scarcely more indicative of the character of the work. The English folks that are introduced, are tame and uninteresting-of them are the youthful lovers of the story-but the French people are far more cleverly managed. Moliere, Fontaine, Boileau, Chapelle, Madame De Sevigne, and other celebrities of the gay court of Louis XIV., before the grand monarque became soberized by Madame Maintenon, play their several parts with considerable effect. The meetings of these choice wits of the day, afforded fine opportunities for brilliant dialogue; and it is in this development of their peculiarities of thought and expression, that the chief attraction of the volume consists.

The preface, a long one, will be extensively read and enjoyed by all who delight in coarse personalities; but. it is by no means calculated to win sympathy or esteem for the writer. It is filled with abuse of her husband, and of the whole tribe of London publishers and journalists, excepting only that "rara avis, the honest publisher." who consented to issue this production. A paragraphic specimen of this unfeminine tirade may suffice:

"For the epithet of Xantippe, which the executeur de Hautes Euvres in the Morning Post' has so gallantly and amiably bestowed upon me, as I cannot even accept a present to which I feel I have no right, I must beg leave to return it to him, with many thanks, for, if I remember