LIFE'S PLAYTHINGS. Ar the age of only eight, you'll forgive me if I state I was not a bit inclined to devote my little mind I could linger with delight over marbles or a kite, To be fagging all the day, for I fancied when at play But my heart was in a flame, I remember, when I came She was young and very fair, in a frock and curly hair, When I met her (at a dance) how she thrilled me with a glance, And a pressure of her white kid glove: In a minute I was caught, and in ecstacy I thought There was nothing in the world like Love! Then Ambition had a turn, and I felt my bosom burn So I wrote a lot of rhyme-just a step from the sublime- Quite a year I threw away on a novel and a play That were worthy of a first-rate name; I was probably deceived, but I verily believed There was nothing in the world like Fame! I was doubtful and perplext how to fix upon the next, 'Midst the treasures that the earth might hold: Some were dearer than the rest, but the dearest and the best, But it may be after all-even toys begin to pall, All my gods are overthrown, save the last-for I will own Farmer :-"Aw, I THOWT 'TWERE THE SOUP!" A LUNATIC ON LITERATURE. We are very fond of English literature, and as the volumes of FUN, new series, will show, we have contributed not ignobly to the lighter branches of the literature of our country. We are grateful, also, to anyone who will give us a good book on the study of English authors. We were much obliged to MR. HANNAY, for instance, for his excellent course of lectures on the subject, a book which no student should be without. But we are not grateful to MR. WILLIAM GEORGE LARKINS for his Handbook of English Literature, for it is really so bad as to be quite comic. One specimen of it will be enough for the reader:-this is part of what MB. LARKINS says of LORD BYRON : "The production of Don Juan' placed him immediately in the front rank of the poets. It is the description of a young and satiated libertine, who endeavours to rouse himself from the listless and melancholy condition into which he has fallen by travel in foreign lands. . . . . It is written in the style of the Spenserian stanza, which suits the character of the poem, which is gloomy and contemplative.. The sentiment of the poetry ascends from what is low and lustful to the highest purity and sublimity." This is really delicious! Well may MR. LARKINS say in his preface that his notes ars 66 woven together by a thread of originality.' Never before were such "original" views propounded for the edification of the student. PROFESSOR HENRY MORLEY is mentioned in the dedication to this funny book, but MR. LARKINS must be a wag, for he could never seriously mean to associate'the Professor's name with such stuff. We have, however, come to the conclusion that the extract given above is a joke. Very funny, MR. LARKINS! but don't do it again:-we see through your jokes, but little boys and girls who want to study English literature might be taken in. Coled Comfort. A DISTINGUISHED ARTIST of our acquaintance happened the other day to fall in with a scientific professor who was descanting on the probable failure of our coal. The painter was of opinion that the sooner the COLE-fields of South Kensington give out, the better for England. Printed by JUDD & GLASS, Phoenix Works, St. Andrew's Hill, Doctors' Commons, and Published (for the Proprietor) by THOMAS BAKER, at 80, Fleet-street, E.C.London: March 14, 1868. IT'S NO AFFAIR OF MINE. I HATE that kind of thing, my dear; Indeed, I'd rather walk Ten miles the other way than hear Whenever she begins to try If EMMA JANE and MARY ANNE, If MR. LOT, the auctioneer, It's not for us, I says, my dear, To pry at married life. If CAPTAIN C. comes back at night A deal the worse for wine, And kicks the children left and rightIt's no affair of mine! I'm sick of MRS. GRUNDY'S ways, And MRS. GRUNDY too; No doubt she goes about and says Queer things of me and you. She's always dropping in to tea, Or looking in to dine; And yet the brute-but then, you see, LOOKS INTO BOOKS. IN the Paris Exhibition, by EUGENE RIMMEL, MESSRS CHAPMAN AND HALL have published a very elegant little souvenir, of what will probably be the last of the International Shows. It consists of a collection of the articles which were contributed by MR. RIMMEL to the Courrier de L'Europe and the Patrie, translated into English, and illustrated rather plentifully with representations of some of the principal objects of the exhibition, including a very good specimen of chromolithography, "The Broussa Mosque," and a bird's-eye view of the building and park. MR. RIMMEL Comments on the Exhibition with fairness, and with what is much rarer, frankness. He does not hesitate to condemn the mismanagement of the Imperial Commissioners, and the injustice of the awards of prizes. He very properly points out, too, why the selection of British jurors was so unsatisfactory-though, of course, it was an understood thing that our share in the Exhibition would be a disgrace, a job, and a failure, as soon as it was announced that MR. COLE was to be Chief Commissioner. The error of the much-vaunted elliptical arrangement of the building is pointed out briefly and clearly, and the criticism on the articles displayed in the various departments and countries is valuable because it is just, if not severe. Altogether, the book will be a welcome souvenir of the Exhibition to those who saw it, while to those who did not see it, it will be a compensation-if not a substitute, since after reading the volume carefully they might well pass themselves off as having visited the show. The book is turned out excellently in the matter of paper, print, and binding-though as to this last, MESSRS. BONE seem to have gilded the edges unsatisfactorily; it is almost impossible to avoid tearing the pages in some cases, in trying to separate them. Smoke? THE Times states that the consumption per head of tobacco in the United Kingdom has increased from 13 oz. in 1841, to 1lb. 5oz. in 1865, and adds "so greatly is the habit of smoking extending." The Times might see from its own columns puffing is on the increase. No other could wake such detestable groans With reed and with chaunter-with bag and with drones: He'd clamber a mountain and squat on the ground, All loved their MCCLAN, save a Sassenach brute, A Sassenach chief may be bonily built, He may purchase a sporran, a bonnet, and kilt; Stick a skeän in his hose-wear an acre of stripes- "MACPHAIRSON CLONGLOCKETTY ANGUS, my lad, "Let's show," said McCLAN, "to this Sassenach loon It was wild-it was fitful-as wild as the breeze- It was jerky, spasmodic and harsh, I'm aware; The Sassenach screamed, and the Sassenach danced; "Hech gather, hech gather, hech gather around; The fame of his piping spread over the land: One morning the fidgety Sassenach swore Oh! loud were the wailings for ANGUS MCCLAN, It sorrowed poor PATTISON CORBY TORBAY And solaced their souls with the following words : "Oh, maidens," said PATTISON, touching his hat, "Don't blubber, my dears, for a fellow like that; Observe, I'm a very superior man, A much better fellow than ANGUS MCCLAN!" Bab They smiled when he winked and addressed them as "dears," Especially ELLEN MCJONES ABERDEEN. Tempus Fugit. A PAINFUL illustration of this truism is now presented at the Eastend. We are assured that there are scores-we may say, hundreds,-of families who have not known what a "Saturday night" is for months! OUR FUN-DONE LETTER. HILE MR. SPEKE was missing, unless one had a theory to account for his disappearance, there was no reason why one should add to the voluminous literature of his case. After his discovery, any allusion to his aberration seemed to me to be unwarrantable. But a paragraph which states that he has been placed in a private lunatic asylum, because he entertained a belief that he is disliked by his family, becomes, to my mind, a public matter. Private lunatic asylums are not admirable places, and I should think the poor gentleman's family must be labouring under a delusion which almost fits them for similar supervision, if they suppose that by putting him in a madhouse they are going the right way to disabuse his mind of the notion that they do not like him. THE Atlas has altered the form of its "Notes," but not to advantage. They do not read half so well as they did, though there are some smart lines about the "Cockney Literary Man." Their aim, however, is not very obvious, and the merit of such squibs depends somewhat on that. Nevertheless, there are some very sharp hits in them. Altogether, the paper in its new form keeps well up to its intent, and should establish itself firmly. I AM Sorry to see that "the canoe" is gaining more footing, if I may be allowed the expression. The amusement is a dangerous one-a spill from a canoe being more perilous, even to a swimmer, than an upset in an outrigger. Besides, I doubt whether anything which began its public career as a tract-distributing machine is worth much. I hope the Boating Clubs of Oxford and Cambridge will discourage the movement, which, as a mere "fad" and fashion, may injure the old, honest, manly practice of rowing. In my time, it was a nice amusement for raw freshmen and men who wouldn't handle an oar, for fear of being pressed into the hard work of the torpid. Captains of the O.U.B.C. and C.U.B.C. will kindly accept this intimation. The PRINCE IMPERIAL of France has just joined the Canoe Club. Let the practice be delegated to Frenchmen and boys! It is stated that the PRINCE OF WALES is Commodore of some English Canoe Club, but I trust the report is as unfounded as a recent advertisement which alleged that "the Jolly" somebody or other sang two miserable music-hall songs, called "Racketty Dick" and "The Horse Feed," or some such names, "by command of H.R.H." År the time when a new Premier comes into power it is fair to suppose that the Editor of the Saturday Review would not be absent from his post. But if he be at the helm how can he explain his passing two blunders in the number for March 7th, which are just such blunders as the Review would, or should be, most severe upon. Blunder number one, minor:-Why was the reviewer who so ably criticised MR. FITZGERALD'S David Garrick, allowed to give us for COLERIDGE such a brace of lines as this ? "All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Which stir this mortal frame." This is not COLERIDGE's metre, but WATTS's. Blunder number two, major :-Why was the writer, so very unnecessarily severe on Wholesome Fare, permitted to talk such nonsense as this?— The little "Marchioness" in Dickens's Curiosity Shop found her dry bread the better for rubbing it against the door of the room where the cheese was locked. Now no man is compelled to read DICKENS, but if he quotes him he should not only read but understand him. The character of the "Marchioness may be an exaggeration, but it would be a caricature if she were guilty of any such practical humour as this. She pries through keyholes to discover where the key of the safe is hidden, but her wildest flight of imagination is to consider infusion of orange-peel wine-with a good deal of "make-believe." The first blunder is pardonable as a defect of memory (though it is difficult to believe a Saturday Reviewer capable of that weakness), but the second is a complete misapprehension of character-it is worse than a blunder, and a blunder is, we are told, worse than a crime. I HEAR great things of the coming exhibition of the Society of British Artists. MR. BARNES is to be well represented, the three posts of honour in the chief room being occupied by his chief work, and by the pictures of MR. HURLSTONE and MR. HEAPHY. MR. HAYES supports the credit of the Society in landscape, backed by MESSRS. MOORE, COLE, TENNANT, and others. MR. C. W. NICHOLLS sends a picture, entitled "A Charming Incident," which has been engraved by MR. C. MOTTRAM, and is a pretty subject that should be popular. We are to have a Ladies' College after all-the real article, and no nonsense about it. It is to be somewhere between London and Cambridge, and the fair undergrads are to go into residence, with sets of rooms, and she-scouts, dinners in hall, a gate-bill no doubt, and all the correct surroundings of University life. What fun! I suppose they will give teas instead of wines, and get up athletic sports in the shape TO MR. MATTHEW ARNOLD. O, CHOSEN Apostle of Culture, O, champion of reason 'gainst might, A Comtist millennium predicted We may fall at Humanity's altar, Gain all that its worship reveals; If we stick to our light and our sweetness, |