THE POETS OF THE PRESENT DAY.-An English periodical thus playfully describes the poets of the age :

"Comus, or some waggish power, must have been tampering with Hippocrene, for it has turned our poets tipsy. In all our visits to Helicon we have never witnessed antics so strange among its sober habitués; and although the extraordinary excitement at first led as to hope that the tuneful choir was about favor us with an unwonted outburst this year, we were not prepared for the scene that awaited us. The first whom we recognized was Sydney Yendys, who came up wringing his hands and tearing his hair, and who, mistaking us for a constable, begged that we would be good enough to take him into custody, as he had just murdered his wife and child, and was tempted to do something still more terrible. Turning for explanation to his friend, Alexander Smith, he told us that it

was all quite true, and that he, and Yendys, and Tenny son had enlisted, and had been singing soldier-ballads all night in "The Apollo's Arms," over the way. "There he goes !" exclaimed our informant, pointing to a figure in a red coat waltzing down the mountain with a rather excited lady whom we mistook for Terpsichore, but whom he introduced to his comrades as Miss Maud. The military mood and the loud hurrahs of the martial bards rather tried our Quaker nerves, and made us glad to see at a little distance our gentle friend, Philip Bailey, pacing along in his own sequestered path; but, although he was able to keep his feet, his speech was thick, and we could hardly make out a sentence he uttered. He began:

·

"The ordinary books on the drawing-room table were always removed on Sundays, and replaced by religious ones, which, like their predecessors, were never opened. People called after luncheon, and then the Observer was put behind the sofa cushions. As the merest boy, I was struck with the twaddle the visitors talked. They told one another things that had been in the papers days before, and were especially particular in inquiring after persons I knew they did not care twopence about. And when at last they said, Well, we must go now,' I wondered how it was that the necessity of departure had not struck them all before. Some friends did not come in, but merely left cards; they were sensible people, and had considerably the best of it. The position of their cards in the large China dish depended, in a great measure, upon who they were. There was a fat, wheezing man, who had been knighted in the city some time, with a full-blown lady, and who gave heavy dinners, and was very rich, and could procure anything for money, except his H's. He was a great card, actually and metaphorically, and was always at the top of the dish. dined once at his house: it was a solemn and dismal banquet. At one time, for three minutes at least, not a word was saidnot even a platitude was launched. The servants stalked round the table, and gravely croaked 'Hock or Sherry' in your ear: and there really was nothing left, after you had crumbled all your bread away in desperation, but to drink; and so I took to it for the remainder of the feast. Once I tried to make some Hittle diversion to the dreariness by offering to bet that there was always more false hair at the opera on the nights of Don Giovanni' than at any other representation of the season, (which there always is, and I can't tell why,) but the attempt was a failure. When we went up stairs, a lady, who could not sing, tooted out something, half inaudibly, at a piano that must have cost two hundred guineas at least. Then came a dead

pause, and the mistress of the house said, 'O, thank you-it is so very kind of you;' and somebody near the instrument, obliged to say something, asked whose song it was; and, on being told, was no wiser. Then came another pause, and then, as I felt strangely inclined, from simple oppression, to stamp and yell, and smash the costly tea-service that the servant was bringing round, by kicking the tray up into the air as a relief to my bottled-up feelings, I hurried out of the room, and hurraed to find myself once more upon the free, common pavement."

CURIOUS TITLES OF BOOKS.-Under this heading we gave, in our last number, a list of curious titles of books which were published in former times. Since then we have come across the following quaint title:-"The Christian Sodality; or, Catholic Hive of Bees, sucking the Hony of the Churches' Prayers from the Blossomes of the Word of God, blowne out of the Epistles and Gospels of the Divine Service throughout the Yeare. Collected by the Puny Bee of all the Hive, not worthy to be named otherwise than by these Elements of his Name, F. P. Printed in the Yeare of our Lord MDCLII."

A HIGHWAYMAN.-Not many years ago an Irishman, whose finances did not keep pace with the demands made on his pocket, and whose scorn of honest labor was eminently unfavorable to their being legitimately filled, borrowed an old pistol one day, when poverty had driven him to extremity, and took the highway convenient, where he was likely to find a heavy purse. A jolly old farmer came jogging along, and Pat put him down instantly as a party who possessed those requisites he so much stood in need of himself. Presenting his pistol, he demanded him "to stand and deliver." The poor fellow forked over fifty dollars, but finding Pat somewhat of a greenhorn, begged a five to take him home, a distance of half a mile. The

request was complied with, accompanied by the most patronizing air. Old Acres and Roods was a knowing one. Eyeing the pistol, he asked Pat if he would sell it.

beverage, or even as a medicine, is a violation of physiological laws. To those among our readers who have any doubts upon the subject, we commend a perusal of this pamphlet, as giving the strength of the argument on both sides.

Glances and Glimpses; or, Fifty Years Social, including Twenty Years Professional Life. By Harriot K. Hunt, M. D. (Boston: John P. Jewett & Co.) Miss Hunt gives us a medley of her own life, and that of her relatives - father, mother, sister, nephews, and nieces-interspersed with severe charges and bitter accusations against the tyranny of woman's natural enemy -man. Harriot (so she prefers to spell her Christian name) was for many years a Universalist; then, and now so far as we can discover, a Swedenborgian, with a little tendency to the system of the Shakers. She taught school for several years, and, seeing no prospect of a matrimonial alliance, commenced the practice of medicine in the city of Boston, where she earned a very decent living. After eighteen years of practice, the Female Medical College of Philadelphia sent her an honorary diploma, and she now affixes the cabalistic M. D. to her name, of which she appears to be as vain as any biped of the other gender. Bating occasional solecisms, and a few grammatical inaccuracies, her book is really creditable to her scholarship. On her great theme, "The Woman Movement" she calls it, we must let her speak for herself. And first, with regard to the laws of the land, how adroitly she brings the golden rule to bear upon those who assume to be the sole legislators for both sexes:

"The withholding from her (woman) liberal culture, equal remuneration, and a personal agency in making the laws she is bound to obey, and compelling her to support the government which enacts them, is a great injustice. Man assumes to himself the offices of king and lawgiver, judge and priest, over woman, and as a legitimate consequence, purity has been sexualizedone kind for man and another for woman....

"Read the laws made for us, and realize that we are drugged and prayed for, indicted and plead for, judged and condemned, taxed and ruled by whom, and just as man sees fit. Is there no oppression here? Would he be willing that the women of this country (supposing they had the power) should do all this for him, without allowing him to say whether he preferred being an automaton or a man?"

Of course we cannot answer that question for man in the abstract, yet we may say that several of our male friends, who are under the most absolute petticoat government, seem to be perfectly contented. But Harriot is not satisfied with claiming for her sex a participation in the enactment of laws, and the right to feel pulses and prescribe drugs. The pulpit has been man-opolized too long. Hence she asks:

"Is it possible that a collective Church on earth can perform its mission, while sexuality marks it-while every woman is excluded from its pulpit, and the yearning of her spirit to nourish souls with the milk of the word-to feed them with the bread of life, and the strong meat of doctrine-is restrained, and her right to cheer the drooping with fresh draughts from the wells of salvation; to revive the timid and desponding with the new wine of the kingdom, and despairing ones with wine settled upon the lees of reflection, and well-refined under deep and better experiences, is denied? Look at the Church as she is HAS she fulfilled her high and holy mission? No! the inspiration, the purpose, the growth, the power, depend on life from the Lord-on a union of the two

elements, male and female, in spiritual ministrationsor monstrosities and abortions must be the resulthave been. Sex is unalterably stamped upon our nature, interwoven in our being. External acts cannot alter it-man will be man-woman will be woman. Who would have it otherwise? But, I would ask, does not the peculiarity of the female element, in adapting woman to receive, nourish, and bring forth in an external form, beautifully symbolize her reception of divine truths, and the need there is of her bringing forth those truths in the Christian ministry, when the

fullness of time shall come ?"

There, again, Harriot is too deep for us. We may not answer that last pun about bringing forth. After all, with so much to find fault with, it is pleasant to know that this strongminded female looks forward hopefully to the future. There have been glimpses of glorious sunshine even in her life. One was the ordination of one of her own sex, after a sermon by one of the other-the Rev. Luther Lee. She describes it in jubilant terms, and with this extract we must close:

"Went thence to South Butler to attend the ordination of Antoinette L. Brown. The storm raged, but even an equinoctial tempest could not detain me from being present on an occasion so momental to the cause of woman; there was something grand and elevating in the idea of a female presiding over a congregation, and breaking to them the bread of life; it was a new position for woman, and gave promise of her exaltation to that moral and intellectual rank which she was designed to fill. I felt a strong desire to attend on this occasion; the subject of woman in the ministry had occupied much thought, and the more I pondered it, the more convinced I was that her love, nature, and the strength of the religious element in her, fitted her

peculiarly to bind up the broken heart, to sympathize with the penitent, to strengthen the weak, to raise the fallen, and to infuse hope and trust in the divine. Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea she may forget, yet will I not forget thee.' Does not the maternity of woman give her a nearer resemblance to God? Was not the strongest love of which humanity is susceptible, used as an illustration by Jehovah in this touching appeal to sinners? Having reflected so much on this point, I could not but rejoice in this consummation of my hopes. The union of the clerical and medical life had long been a beau ideal with me, and this installation of one of my sex as pastor over a church, seemed one step toward its realization my heart sent up its thanksgiving, for the prospective minister was all we could ask to fill the sacred office."

The second volume of Irving's Life of Washington embraces some of the most brilliant scenes in the eventful career of the father of his country. Commencing with his assumption of the command of the army in 1775, the biographer details the successive events down to the brilliant close of the campaign in 1777. Familiar to us all as are the main incidents in the Revolutionary struggle, they derive fresh interest from the clear and graphic style of the writer. We make room for a single short extract-the victory at Princeton :

"On the first of February, a hundred and twenty soldiers of Argyle's regiment, commanded by a captain named Campbell and a lieutenant named Lindsay, marched to Glencoe, Captain Campbell was commonly called in Scotland Glenlyon, from the pass in which his property lay. He had every qualification for the service on which he was employed, an unblushing forehead, a smooth, lying tongue, and a heart of adamant. He was also one of the few Campbells who were likely to be trusted and welcomed by the Macdonalds, for his niece was married to Alexander, the second son of Mac Ian.

"The sight of the red coats approaching caused some anxiety among the population of the valley. John, the eldest son of the chief, came, accompanied by twenty clansmen, to meet the strangers, and asked what this visit meant. Lieutenant Lindsay answered that the soldiers came as friends, and wanted nothing but quarters. They were kindly received, and were lodged under the thatched roofs of the little community. Glenlyon and several of his men were taken into the house of a taxman, who was named, from the cluster of cabins over which he exercised authority, Inverriggen. Lindsay was accommodated nearer to the abode of the old chief. Auchintriater, one of the principal men of the clan, who governed the small hamlet of Auchnaion, found room there for a party commanded by a sergeant named Barbour. Provis ions were liberally supplied. There was no want of beef, which had probably fattened in distant pastures; nor was any payment demanded: for in hospitality, as in thievery, the Gaelic marauders rivaled the Bedouins. During twelve days the soldiers lived familiarly with the people of the glen. Old Mac Ian, who had before felt many misgivings as to the relation in which he stood to the government, seems to have been pleased with the visit. The officers passed much of their time with him and his family. The long evenings were cheerfully spent by the peat fire, with the help of some packs of cards which had found their way to that remote corner of the world, and of some French brandy, which was probably part of James's farewell gift to his Highland supporters. Glenlyon appeared to be warmly attached to his niece and her husband Alexander. Every day he came to their house to take his morning draught. Meanwhile, he observed with minute attention all the avenues by which, when the signal for the slaughter should be given, the Macdonalds might attempt to escape to the hills, and he reported the result of his observations to Hamilton.

"Hamilton fixed five o'clock in the morning of the thirteenth of February for the deed. He hoped that before that time he should reach Glencoe with four hundred men, and should have stopped all the earths in which the old fox and his two cubs-so Mac Ian and his sons were nicknamed by the murderers-could take refuge. But, at five precisely, whether Hamilton had arrived or not, Glenlyon was to fall on and to slay every Macdonald under seventy.

"The night was rough. Hamilton and his troops made slow progress, and were long after their time. While they were contending with the wind and snow, Glenlyon was supping and playing at cards with those whom he meant to butcher before daybreak. He and Lieutenant Lindsay had engaged themselves to dine with the old chief on the morrow.

"Late in the evening a vague suspicion that some evil was intended crossed the mind of the chief's eldest son. The soldiers were evidently in a restless state, and some of them uttered strange cries. Two men, it is said, were overheard whispering. 'I do not like this job,' one of them muttered; I should be glad to fight the Macdonalds. But to kill men in their beds- We must do as we are bid,' answered another voice. If there is anything wrong, our officers must answer for it.' John Macdonald was so uneasy that soon after midnight he went to Glenlyon's quarters. Glenlyon and his men were all up, and seemed to be getting their arms ready for action. John, much alarmed, asked what these preparations meant. Glenlyon was profuse of friendly assurances. •Some of Glengarry's people have been harrying the country. We are getting ready to march against them. You are quite safe. Do you think that if you were in any danger I should not have given a hint to your brother Sandy and his wife? John's suspicions were quieted. He returned to his house and lay down to rest.

"It was five in the morning. Hamilton and his men were still some miles off, and the avenues which they were to have secured were open. But the orders which Glenlyon had received were precise, and he began to execute them at the little village where he was himself quartered. His host, Inverriggen, and nine other Macdonalds were dragged out of their beds,

bound hand and foot, and murdered. A boy twelve years old clung round the captain's legs, and begged hard for life. He would do anything: he would go anywhere: he would follow Glenly on round the world. Even Glenlyon, it is said, showed signs of relenting; but a ruffian named Drummond shot the child dead.

"At Auchnaion the taxman Auchintriater was up early in the morning, and was sitting with eight of his family round the fire, when a volley of musketry laid him and seven of his companions dead or dying on the floor. His brother, who alone had escaped unhurt, called to Sergeant Barbour, who commanded the slayers, and asked as a favor to be allowed to die in the open air. Well,' said the sergeant, I will do you that favor for the sake of your meat which I have caten.' The mountaineer, bold, athletic, and favored by the darkness, came forth, rushed on the soldiers who were about to level their pieces at him, flung his plaid over their faces, and was gone in a moment.

"Meanwhile, Lindsay had knocked at the door of the old chief, and had asked for admission in friendly language. The door was opened. Mac Ian, while putting on his clothes and calling to his servants to bring some refreshments for his visitors, was shot through the head. Two of his attendants were slain with him. His wife was already up and dressed in such finery as the princesses of the rude Highland glens were accustomed to wear. The assassins pulled off her clothes and trinkets. The rings were not easily taken from her fingers, but a soldier tore them away with his teeth. She died on the following day.

"The statesman, to whom chiefly this great crime is to be ascribed, had planned it with consummate ability; but the execution was complete in nothing but in guilt and infamy. A succession of blunders saved three-fourths of the Glencoe men from the fate of their chief. All the moral qualities which fit men to bear a part in a massacre Hamilton and Glenlyon possessed in perfection. But neither seems to have had much professional skill. Hamilton had arranged his plan without making allowance for bad weather, and this in a country and at a season when the weather was very likely to be bad. The consequence was, that the fox earths, as he called them, were not stopped in time. Glenlyon and his men committed the error of dispatching their hosts with fire-arms instead of using the cold steel. The peal and flash of gun after gun gave notice, from three different parts of the valley at once, that murder was doing. From fifty cottages the halfnaked peasantry fled under cover of the night to the recesses of their pathless glen. Even the sons of Mac Ian, who had been especially marked out for destruction, contrived to escape. They were roused from sleep by faithful servants. John, who by the death of his father had become the patriarch of the tribe, quitted his dwelling just as twenty soldiers with fixed bayonets marched up to it. It was broad day long before Hamilton arrived. He found the work not even half performed. About thirty corpses lay wallowing in blood on the dunghills before the doors. One or two women were seen among the number, and, a yet more fearful and piteous sight, a little hand, which had been lopped in the tumult of the butchery from some infant. One aged Macdonald was found alive. He was probably too infirm to fly, and as he was above seventy, was not included in the orders under which Glenlyon had acted. Hamilton murdered the old man in cold blood. The deserted hamlets were then set on fire, and the troops departed, driving away with them many sheep and goats, nine hundred kine, and two hundred of the small shaggy ponies of the Highlands.

"It is said, and may but too easily be believed, that the sufferings of the fugitives were terrible. How many old men, how many women with babes in their arms, sank down and slept their last sleep in the snow; how many having crawled, spent with toil and hunger, into nooks among the precipices, died in those dark holes, and were picked to the bone by the mountain ravens, can never be known. But it is probable that those who perished by cold, weariness, and want were not less numerous than those who were slain by the assassins. When the troops had retired the Macdonalds crept out of the caverns of Glencoe, ventured back to the spot where the huts had formerly stood, collected the scorched corpses from among the smoking ruins, and performed some rude rites of sepulture. The tradition runs that the hereditary bard of the tribe took his seat on a rock which overhung the place of slaughter, and poured forth a long lament over his murdered brethren and his desolate home. Eighty years later that sad dirge was still repeated by the population of the valley.

The survivors might well apprehend

at they had