handsome case, and were most neat and attractive specimens of handiwork.

They were an expressive comment upon what I had just seen, and harmonized well with the tone of thought into which I had been led by the sight of M. Bardin's humble inventions. They were an interesting illustration of the broad sympathy that all men feel with the sentiments of truly healthy poetry. This is especially noticeable, when a chord is struck which vibrates responsive in all hearts, as common to our humanity, whatever may be its condition. There are many such strains to be found in Longfellow, and few living poets offer so many evidences of that touch of Nature which makes the whole world kin. This was a fresh and gratifying proof of his wide-spread influence and real accord with the liberal spirit of the age. While I was reading this quotation, a large organ near by suddenly began to send forth the inspiriting tones of “Fair Harvard.” The effect of this upon several graduates of that venerable institution who happened to be present, can be imagined. Many of my readers have, perhaps, witnessed the vivid gymnastics and vocal demonstrations which are often excited by this tune, and I can only say that on this occasion, they were repeated with variations. I was convinced that good music and muscular Christianity

have much in sympathy. The organist was accompanied by one who played the French horn, or some other complicated arrangement of resounding bass, and did his part quite well too. When he had finished, I stepped forward and asked him what he had just played. He said it was a favorite Irish air, very old, but which had of late become quite a favorite under the name of "My lodging's on the cold ground." I pitied the respondent from the depths of my heart, but after all it was his misfortune, and not his fault, that he was not a graduate of Harvard. I was about to enlighten his ignorance in regard to the Marseillaise of my Alma Mater, but reflected that he would be very likely to be prejudiced in favor of his own view and said nothing.

The longer I live the more convinced I become that there is but little verity in books, and nothing certain in this world, but death and taxes. It is our happy fortune to live in an age of progress, and new discoveries daily descend upon us like falling stars. How lucky are we to be spared the supposititious emotions that so deeply excited our fathers. Coleridge never was at Chamonix, nor did his dreamy optics ever rest upon the snowy dome of Mont Blanc. Hence we can no longer waste our sympathies upon his once noble hymn to that peak, especially since we are a practical and lawabiding people, and in our age every contre-façon is severely punished. "Truth is mighty," and has prevailed against Casabianca and Sir John Moore, in

spite of the poetical cerements with which they had been adorned. Every one knows, nowadays, that the former did "go without his father's word," and, as to the latter, we did not "bury him darkly at dead of night." Julian the Apostate has been conclusively proved to have been as faithful as Abdiel; and Henry the Eighth, as Mr. Froude has shown on the most obvious testimony, was a model of conjugal fidelity, and bowstringed his numerous wives only from the purest and most philanthropic motives. Arnold the traitor was a fiery, though somewhat eccentric, patriot, who really saved his country; and General Hull a martyr who reluctantly yielded to the force of circumstances. An Andover professor has even brought Judas Iscariot again before the tribunal at which all humanity have rashly condemned him, and demonstrated that it was quite natural for him to act as he did, considering the peculiar position in which he was placed. As to Sappho, Dr. Welcker, with a tender regard for her reputation, has shown conclusively that, so far from falling in love with Phaon and throwing herself from the Leucadian rock, she was a highly respectable wife and mother, and never took any leap at all, except into matrimony. Professor Renan, after having displayed to an ignorant world the real status of Christ and the deluded Apostles, has, in the same manner, "réhabilité," as he terms it, the Empress Faustina, consort of Marcus Aurelius, and compares her spotless and virtuous life to that of Marie Antoinette. One of

our countrymen, pestilently inquisitive, and never satisfied to leave well enough alone, has just found the original score of "Yankee Doodle," and discovered that it was originally a popular air in the Basque provinces and sung by its people long before the deluge. "America," or "God save the King," as everybody has been informed, was "conveyed by Handel from a song sung by Mad. de Maintenon's pupils at St. Cyr, and, if traced back to its origin, would finally be found, 1 dare say, snugly hybernating at the very root of the genealogical tree of harmony; and now it appears that "Fair Harvard" was very probably played by Brian Boru on his harp to urge his "skipping kerns" on to battle in the tender infancy of Fenianism. With every respect for abstract truth, I yield unwillingly for the most part to the researches which have thus stripped from many an idol of the past the drapery with which time and poetry have adorned it; the fastidious accuracy of modern days has often substituted but a cold and unwelcome skeleton for the attractive form we once worshipped; yet in the matter of "Fair Harvard" it seems quite probable, to judge from its merits, that it dates back to a period far more remote than the above; and I am willing to admit from its effect on myself that, "when of old the sons of morning sang," this was the strain which inspired their "notes angelical," and penetrating to the very heaven of heavens, tendered soothing melody to the great Author of music Himself.

CHAPTER XXV.

THE OFFSPRING OF THE PEN.

VAST as is the scope of the Great Exhibition, and complete as are some of its departments, there are others which are conspicuous through their deficiencies. This is especially true in that of the publishers and booksellers. In our own section, where so much might have been done with credit and success, the display is by no means what it should be, though a few very creditable specimens of the skill of our workmen are to be seen, and a copy of the last edition of Webster's Dictionary bears ample testimony to the resources of the "Riverside Press." This is to be regretted, for many of our leading publishers within the past few years have made notable advances in every direction, and works have appeared under their auspices that are fully equal to the finest productions of the first European houses. Had a variety of these been visible at the Exhibition, even if the contribution had cost some little sacrifice on the part of the senders, they would have had a beneficial effect. They would have given us a reputation in a quarter where the nation really deserves it, and enabled the Americans here to point with pride