cursive hand, termed Lombardic or Mæso-Gothic, but really of purely native style, charged to the full with peculiar ligatures or arbitrary combinations of letters, and the earliest and simplest forms of contractions and abbreviations; the monastic or book-hand; and the court, or free and running hand, which developed into the charter hand of succeeding centuries, as contrasted with the large Gothic hand, which runs riot in the massive musical service-books of the twelfth and three succeeding centuries. The languages employed by the notaries and scribes of the Saxon dynasty were two :-Latin and Anglo-Saxon, or Earliest English, as some of its students love to call it. We must bear in mind that each of these was to the scribes a living language, the one imported and literary, the other indigenous and domestic; as such, each was subject to ever varying changes, and gradual or local peculiarities of progression, which, while they separated the latter language into the well-known dialects of West Saxon, Northumbrian, &c., fail, as far as has yet been shown, to point out any localization of deviations from the true classical forms of the former language. Hence we find such words as meriscis (=mariscis), christianitata (=christianitate), expraessi (=expressi), kartala (=kartula or chartula), obtime (=optime), septincentesimo (=septingentesimo), birginis (=virginis), silbam (=silvam), proacutoribus (=procuratoribus), taerre (=terrae), clusuris (clausuris), sanguini (abl), demonstratus (acc. pl. masc.), antecidente (=antecedente), which are picked from the fac-similes at haphazard. Whether these and numerous cognate examples, which may be so collected, be of universal occurrence, or confined to certain tracts of Saxon England, remains to be determined. The grammar and arrangement of sentences frequently sin against the correct rules of Latin, but it is not difficult to gather the meaning intended to be conveyed.

The first and most venerable specimen of the series purports to be a grant from Hlotharius, King of the Cantuarii, or men of the kingdom of Kent, and we must notice that a heading has been given to the charter of "Hlodhari of Kent." Here the arbitrary forms introduced so unnecessarily by Kemble have been allowed, without challenge, to influence the later school of Palæography, which aims at greater exactness, and will find it necessary to discard a great deal of what Kemble has assumed. If any means could possibly exist to show the actual form of the King's name, we should have thought that a royal notary, inditing a document from the Court, and in the presence of the monarch himself, would have taken care to preserve the current form of his master's name and title. Kemble, however, with that love of reducing names to a standard, even imaginary, heads his transcript of the charter with the title of "Hlodhari of Kent." Even this we should object to receive unless the form itself occurred in the body of the deed, for that form in the subscription must be taken as a Latin genitive rather than an indeclinable Saxon word. Be this as it may, Hlodhari with d instead of quite a new form introduced, without a reference to its origin, in the fac-similes. Kemble prints another charter of this monarch where the name occurs as Lotharius in the text and Hlothari in his title. Another charter,

is

granted by Bishop Leutherius, is ascribed by Kemble to Liuthari, and there is evidently a close connexion between the original names of the King and the Bishop. The best manuscripts of the Saxon Chronicle spell the name of either personage thus: "Hlophere" or "Hlodhere," some copies reducing these forms to " Hlothere," "Lothere," or "Lodere." This charter is full of remarkable peculiarities of every kind, and there is no reason to suspect that it is other than a genuine production of an immediate disciple of the men who derived their teaching from the great Augustine, a Roman, and one who not only introduced the Roman religion, but the Roman diplomatic formulæ, to be met with in the bombastic and inflated phrases of Saxen territorial documents.

The second charter is of an almost equal antiquity, if it is to be accepted as an original or contemporary copy of an original. About this there may, perhaps, be some doubt. Here, again, may be observed the Roman letter, but with frequent large capitals, words divided off from each other, and very few and very simple contractions. The same reliance upon Kemble's unfounded title has induced the repetition of his form "Oethilred" at the head of this charter, whereas the forms which are to be found in the deed itself are "Hodilredus" and Oedelraedus"; and "Odilredus" in the contemporary endorsement. The standard form, if any can be safely predicated of such a venerable name, would most likely be "Ethelred," from analogies in the 'Saxon Chronicle.' The forms of the letters are not so pure as those obtaining in the first charter, and there is, probably, some reason to believe this document is a tolerably correct copy of a genuine original, and owes its present form to a monastic scribe of a somewhat later period, who, in making his copy, divided the words, introduced capitals, and occasional variations, and, perhaps, accidentally omitted the clause containing the date. The same departures from correctness of grammar and orthography may be noticed in this as in the previous document.

The next deed in the series bears date A.D. 704, and appears to inaugurate with the earliest years of the eighth century an entirely different style of writing, derived mainly from Italian forms, and far superior in beauty and utility to the cumbrous and heavy lettering exhibited by the first two charters. The clauses containing the Invocation and the Proem or introductory part, which becomes in later law deeds the preamble, are interesting specimens of their kind, although by no means so long or so prolix as many that may be gleaned at ease by an inspection of Kemble's volumes. The same following of Kemble, whose title here betrays the purely clerical and accidental error of a and e transposed, must be again deprecated, the title standing "Suaebraed of Essex," whereas the forms of the context are "Sueabræd" and "Suebrædus," and among the witnesses of the second deed of the series occurs the same monarch's name written "Suebredus."

No. 4 of the set is a beautifully written deed in the Saxon book-hand, which occurs, of course, with many modifications, in the majority of Saxon manuscripts. The same objection that has been pointed out with regard to title in the preceding deeds need not be urged

here, as there can be no reason why the name of the king, "Uuihtredus," as it occurs in the text, may not be given as "Uuihtraed," for Kemble, who has here been followed, has merely lengthened the final syllable. The date of this charter forms an interesting part of it. Had the compiler of the "Codex Diplomaticus" given an index of the names of the witnesses to the deeds he printed, it would have been comparatively easy to attribute to this a more definite date. As it is, with what materials we have, we must accept the alternative of A.D. 700, or 715, the only two years answering to the thirteenth year of the indiction while satisfying the requirements of the king's reign and the lives of the prelates who attest the charter.

No. 5, the last we can at present mention, is of an unusual character, not relating to the transfer of land, as most do, but a kind of confidential letter from Uualdharius, a "suplex servulus," as he terms himself, but really Bishop of London, to the Archbishop of Canterbury, Berctuald. We should have preferred to see on the added title the name of the writer of the letter rather than that of the recipient of the communication. It relates to proceedings pending at a synodal meeting at Breguntford respecting difficulties between the King of the West Saxons and the party represented by the writer of the letter, whose motive in writing appears to be a desire of obtaining the archbishop's advice as to his proper proceedings at the meeting which he is about to attend. This deed is printed for the first time in this series.

We strongly recommend the book to all students of the art of Palæography, to libraries and collectors of manuscripts, and to the historian of our early church and empire. The fame of the editor, who has done so much for the Museum manuscripts, is a sufficient guarantee for the sterling value of the work, and we trust he may carry it on and make a further selection of other similar deeds under his charge.

NOVELS OF THE WEEK.

The Scarlet Shawl. By Richard Jefferies. Lonely Carlotta. By A. E. N. Bewicke. (Tinsley Brothers.) 3 vols. (Bentley & Son.) 2 vols. Mary Grainger. By George Leigh. (Samuel Tinsley.) Cicely. By the Author of 'Not Without Thorns.' 3 vols. (Tinsley Brothers.) By "the scarlet shawl" the author means the indefinite halo of wickedness which gives a charm to such sirens as Pauline, the vaguely improper female who seduces Master Percival, the hero, from his allegiance to Nora, the heroine. Beyond the rather rhapsodical style in which this slight story is spun out to the dimensions of a volume, there little that is remarkable about it, except the device of making a bridal party late for the ceremony by the simple expedient of putting the church clock forward a quarter of an hour, and thus giving time for the hero to cut in and carry off the bride. Neither of the principal parties manages to arouse our interest, and the manners and morals of the whole company are of a place description. There is a toothless old beau, a pious old maid, and a ruffianly roué,

common

curiously named Herbert Spencer. These persons talk and vegetate during the misunderstanding between the principals, and the novel terminates in the ordinary way.

Carlotta is a gushing little Portuguese, exiled in the dwellings of the Philistines at Clapham or some locality of that kind, and finding no outlet for her wealth of devotion to divine and human objects. She is repelled by her intellectual and superior female cousins, thought a fool by their business-like brothers, misunderstood and compromised by a Bohemian gentleman of easy Liberal opinions, and generally driven to despair by the hard facts of her English existence. For many a day she pines for a certain kindly convent in Madeira, where they told her fascinating tales of the wickedness of the world she had not yet seen; and often, like a vision of the saints, comes back to her the bright image of a dashing young sailor, who, for a short evening in that childish period, taught her something of the meaning of the full-grown passion of love. She is not destined, however, to see that hero in the flesh till she has met with several adventures, which tend to develope the little superstitious girl into a devoted and self-sacrificing woman. These adventures involve so many complicated groups of personages, and so much change of scene, that we shall not attempt to follow them. Suffice it to say, that in spite of her conspicuous want of information and her lapses from self-restraint, she manages to win the respect of most of her friends; that she nurses one of the best of them through a fever, and saves another life by her evidence a trial for murder; besides being the fortunate means of re-uniting a Russian princess to her husband, who has been exiled to Siberia for many years, and looked upon by his friends, and represented by his enemies, as dead. This Russian is the sage adviser of his devoted young friend, and his and her influence, that of purity of heart and religion in the true sense of the word, is contrasted with the weakness of mere acuteness of understanding, as exemplified in Digby and others. Though somewhat overloaded with philosophical tags, and occasionally femininely deficient in the minor point of spelling, there is a good deal of substantial promise in this story. Carlotta is occasionally silly, but is very individual and quaint in her simple sententiousness.

on

It is rather hard upon a reviewer to have to deal with a book which has no particular faults, and 'Mary Grainger' is just such a book. But the task would be still harder if, in addition, the book had no particular merits, and that is not the case with the novelette now before us. 'Mary Grainger' has merit of a certain kind. The characters are clearly marked, if not deeply elaborated. The narrative is sensible and in

teresting, though not worked up to the highest pitch of pathos or excitement. The author desires to illustrate one or two useful

maxims, one of which reminds us of the

"mischief still for idle hands to do" of Dr. Watts. But we doubt whether a rich young clergyman is likely, for want of work, to go so far wrong as the Rev. John Brown; and if he did so, we somewhat mistrust the permanence of his reformation at the end of the story. It must be admitted, however, that much less probable incidents are common enough in novels, and we have no great

quarrel with Mr. George Leigh on that score. The rescue of the heroine by the young Earl of Belhaven, his wildly absurd scheme of living with her as a sister, and his extraordinary liberality in making provision for her in his will, are more open to stricture. Upon the whole, perhaps, there is nothing in the book that might not appear natural enough (according to the nature of novels) if the characters and course of incidents had been

worked out with more deliberation. Surprises in fiction should be prepared and resolved, like discords in music.

Those who have leisure to appreciate a "love story in the minor key," will find 'Cicely' a thoughtful and not uninteresting tale, though hardly a work to be devoured with impatience by the most insatiable novel-reader. Cicely is a good specimen of an honest English girl, more hearty than demonstrative, whose love waits upon her duty, and whose feelings are rather deep than susceptible. To her sorrow a young French cousin comes to live with her, who, in spite of a certain shallowness and something metallic in her sparkling ways, has grace and beauty, a caressing manner, and a ready command of tears, all of which qualities make her sufficiently attractive to wile from poor Cicely her lover's heart,- -a muscular organ not remarkable for the delicacy of its texture. Cicely finds a pis aller in a young doctor, who in every point but that of wealth is an admirable exchange; and, in spite of two or three deaths in the course of the tale, we are left in the enjoyment of a sober satisfaction, and good hopes of our heroine's future. two girls are well contrasted, and the other female characters have their merits.

SCHOOL-BOOKS.

The

Un Philosophe sous les Toits. Par Émile Souvestre. Edited by Léonce Stièvenard. (Longmans & Co.)

Middle-Class French Series. By Léon Contanseau. (Same publishers).

The Conversation Book. By Léon Contanseau. (Same publishers.)

Le Tartuffe: Comédie. Par Molière. With Notes by Jules Bué. (Hachette.) History of England, from the Death of Edward the Confessor to the Death of King John. By W. L. R. Cates. With an Introductory Sketch of the previous History by G. W. Cox. (Longmans & Co.) History of Scotland. By Robert Anderson. (W. & R. Chambers.)

Parallel Extracts. Arranged for Translation into English and Latin by J. E. Nixon. Part I. (Macmillan & Co.)

The Traveller, and The Deserted Village. By Oliver Goldsmith. With Notes by J. W. Hales. (Same publishers.)

Cowper: The Task, with Tirocinium, and Selections from the Minor Poems. Edited by H. T. Griffith. (Clarendon Press.)

Extracts from Livy. With English Notes by H. Lee-Warner. Parts I. and II. (Clarendon Press.) Stories from Herodotus, in Attic Greek. Adapted by J. S. Phillpotts. (Rivingtons.) CERTAINLY people who want to learn French have every facility offered them now-a-days: of learning it, that is, as far as books can teach. Here we have two French gentlemen, professors of their language in various English institutions of such repute as King's College, London, St. Paul's School, the late Military College at Addiscombe, producing elegant little books like those before us, for the benefit of young people who intend to go in for the next Cambridge Local Examinations, and for the youth of our middle classes generally.

Neither appears to us to have quite succeeded in giving us the ideal book in its class. M. Stièvenard's notes to Souvestre's charming 'Un Philosophe sous les Toits' are rather too much in the style of those which we remember in the editions of classical authors put forth by the "Poll coaches" of our undergraduate days; that is, they give literal translations of all passages which present any difficulty, and some which do not, without giving any explanation of the manner in which, e.g., such a phrase as "les pieds en espalier" comes to mean Stièvenard omits a little explanation which is with my feet spread out." Sometimes, too, M. wanted: for instance, we take a case at random, he might have told his students who the "major" was of whom the soldier took leave when he left the hospital. On the other hand, M. Contanseau unnecessary refinements. We cannot see on what

in his accidence rather tends to puzzle pupils with principle "mien" is a "possessive pronoun," while mon" is a "possessive adjective." Both equally represent "meum," and both, we take it, are, in the true sense of the word, pronouns : that is, words used to prevent the unnecessary repetition of nouns. The fact that one is definite and the other inWhat would he say to such a phrase as "un miền definite does not seem to affect the question. ami"? Again, why should "lui" in "c'est lui" be called disjunctive, while in "il lui parle" it is conjunctive? We think we have before remarked on the unfairness of giving k a place in the French alphabet, which is denied to w; and it is surely insufficient to say that "mûr" has a circumflex accent to distinguish it from mur." However, criticisms for himself, and; on the whole, we should the learner will soon learn enough to make these say that M. Contanseau's neat little books are well adapted for their purpose. M. Bué's edition of 'Tartuffe,' we may add, is another of those excellent "French Classics," by the publication of which Messrs. Hachette have done such service to

teachers and learners of the French language.

Mr. Cates and that painfully-industrious gentleman, Mr. G. W. Cox, have written between them a volume that is above the average of school histories in merit. The authors should, however, have acknowledged their indebtedness to Mr. Freeman more distinctly, as, had it not been for his writings, the book would probably have been a very different affair from what it is.

Mr. Anderson seems to have taken some little

pains with his 'History of Scotland'; although his English is slipshod, and he is not particularly intelligent. He gives us a map to illustrate "the battles of Stirling, Falkirk, Bannockburn, and Sauchie," and carefully marks on it the line of the

Scottish Central Railway!

Mr. Nixon's volume will prove a help to those who are trying to learn to write Latin prose. The plan on which the book is based is a good one, and Mr. Nixon has taken trouble in working it out. The passages given have, on the whole, been judiciously selected, and a glance at them may prove interesting to scholars, as well as to those for whom the volume is intended.

Mr. Hales's notes are sound and useful; but his volume is printed in painfully small type. Mr. Griffith's little volume is also deserving of some praise; but why has he omitted 'John Gilpin'?

Mr. Lee-Warner has added useful notes to his extracts from Livy; but his introductory remarks, although pleasant reading, are a little too full of allusions, we fancy, to be suited to boys. The author shows, however, a laudable desire to make his pupils realize the narrative of the historian.

Another Rugby master, Mr. Phillpotts, has hit on the device of turning Herodotus into Attic Greek for the use of beginners. The idea is somewhat startling, but boys will certainly like the stories, and we fancy the sacrilege may be excused.

An Introduction to the Elements of Euclid. By
S. Hawtrey. (Longmans & Co.)
SOME six years ago we had pleasure in perusing
Mr. Hawtrey's Narrative-Essay on a Liberal
Education,' in which he told how he had intro-
duced the study of Latin and Euclid in a parochial

Revd. & Dear Sir

So much from the Poet: now let me add a few wishes which every man, who has himself the honour of being a father, must breathe, when he sees Female Youth, Beauty, & Innocence about to enter into this much chequered & very precarious world.-May you, my young Madam, escape that Frivolity, which threatens universally to pervade

the minds and manners of Fashionable Life.-To pass by the rougher, & still more degenerate sex; the mob of fashionable Female Youth, what are they?-Are they anything?—They prattle, laugh, sing, dance, finger a lesson, or perhaps turn over the pages of a fashionable Novel; but are their minds stored with any information, worthy of the noble powers of reason & judgement; or do their hearts glow with sentiment, ardent, generous & humane ?-Were I to poetise on the subject, I would call them the butterflies of the human kind; remarkable only for, & distinguished only by, the idle variety of their gaudy glare; sillily stray ing from one blossoming weed to another, without a meaning, & without an aim; the idiot prey of every pirate of the skies, who thinks them worth his while as he wings his way by them; & speedily by wintry time swept to that oblivion whence they might as well never have appeared.Amid this croud of Nothings, may you, Madam, be Something!-May you be a Character, dignified as Rational & Immortal Being!

A still more formidable plague in life, unfeeling, interested selfishness, is a contagion too impure to touch you. The selfish drift to bless yourself alone; to build your fame on another's ruin; to look on the child of Misfortune without commiseration, or even the victim of Folly without Pity.these and every other feature of a heart rotten at the core, are what you are totally incapable of.

These wishes, Madam, are of no consequence to You, but to Me, they are of the utmost; as they give me an opportunity of declaring with what respect I have the honor to be,

&c &c.

To Mr. Corbet, Supervisor general of Excise— Sir,

I have in my time taken up the pen on several ticklish subjects, but none that ever cost me half so much as the language of supplication.

To lay open one's wants & woes to the mercy of another's benevolence, is a business so prostituted by the worthless & unfeeling, that a man of Principle & Delicacy shrinks from it as from Contamination

Mr. F tells me that you wish to know from myself what are my views in desiring to change my Excise Division.-With the wish natural to man, of bettering his present situation, I have turned my thoughts towards the practibility of getting into a Port Division.-As I know that the General Superrs are omnipotent in these matters, my honored friend, Mrs. Dunlop of Dunlop, offered me to interest you in my behalf.

She told me that she was well acquainted with Mrs. Corbet's goodness, & that on the score of former intimacy, she thought she could promise some influence with her and added, with her usual sagacity, & knowledge of human nature, that the surest road to the good offices of a man was through the mediation of the woman he loved. -On this footing, Sir, I venture my application; else, not even the known generosity of your character would have emboldened me to address you thus

I have the honor &c.

this will be presented you by a particular Friend of mine, a Mr. Clarke, Schoolmaster in Moffat, who has lately become the unfortune & undeserved subject of persecution from some of his Employers.—The ostensible & assigned reason on their part is, some instances of severity to the boys under his care; but I have had the best opportunities of knowing the merits of the cause, & I assure you, Sir, that he is falling a sacrifice to the weakness of the Many following in the cry of the villainy of the Few.

that

The business will now come before the Patrons of the School, who are, the Ministers, Magistrates & Town - Council of Edin1., & in that view I would interest your goodness in his behalf.-'Tis true, Sir, & I feel the full force of the observation, much mistakes himself, & very much mistakes the a man in my powerless, humble station very way of the world, when he dares presume to offer influence among so highly respectable a Body as I do? A man of Abilities, a man of Genius, a the Patronage I have mentioned; but what could man of Worth, and my Friend, before I would stand quietly & silent by, & see him perish thus, I would down on my knees to the rocks & the mountains, & implore them to fall on his persecutors & crush their malice & them in deserved

destruction!-Believe me, Sir, he is a greatly inalas he cannot so redress the wrong, may yet as jured man. The humblest individual, though, ably attest the fact, as a Lord. Mr. Moodie's goodness I well know; & that acquaintance with him I have the honor to boast of, will forgive my addressing him thus in favour of a Gentleman, whom, if he knew as well, he would esteem as I

do.

Thanks to Mr. Corbet for granting the request Sir, When I was honored with your most obliging letter, I said to myself" A simple letter of thanks will be a very poor return for so much kindness; I shall likewise send the gentleman a cargo of my best & newest rhymes."-However, my new Division holds me so very busy, & several things in it being rather new to me, my time has hitherto been totally engrossed.-When a man is strongly impressed with a sense of something he ought to do; at the same time, that want of leisure, or want of opportunity, or want of assistance, or want of information, or want of paper, pen & ink, or any other of the many wants which Flesh is heir to when Sense of Duty pulls one way, & Necessity (or, alas! too often Indolence under Necessity's garb) pulls another; you are too well acquainted with poor Human Nature, to be told what a devil of a life that arch-vixen, Conscience leads us.

Old as I am in acquaintance, & growing grey in connection, with Slips, Frips, Failings, Frailties, Back-slidings in the paths of grace, . . . and all the other light-horse militia of Iniquity, never did my poor back suffer such scarification from the Scourge of Conscience, & during these three weeks that your kind epistle has lain by me unanswered. -A negro wench under the rod of a West-Indian Mistress; a nurse under the caprice of a spoilt child, the only son & heir of a booby Squire; nay, a hen-peckt Husband under the displeasure of his virago Wife-were enviable predicaments to mine.

-At last, by way of compromise, I return you by this my most grateful thanks for all the generous friendship, & disinterested patronage, for which, now & formerly, I have the honor to be indebted to you; and as to the rhymes, another edition, in two volumes, of my Poems being in the Press, I shall beg leave to present a copy to Mrs. Corbet, as my first, & I will venture to add, most effectual mediator with you on my behalf.

I have the honor to be, etc:

To Miss Lessly Bailie of Mayville, inclosing a song I had composed on her.-1793. Madam,

I have just put the last hand to the inclosed

song; & I think that I may say of it, as Nature can of you-"There is a work of mine, finished in my very finest style!"

Among your sighing swains, if there should be one whose ardent sentiment & ingenuous modesty fetter his powers of speech in your presence; with that look & attitude so native to your manner, & of all others the most bewitching-Beauty listening to Compassion-put my Ballad in the poor fellow's hand, just to give a little breathing to the fervour of his soul.

I have some pretence, Madam, to make you up the theme of my song, as you & I are two downright singularities in human nature.-You will probably start at this assertion; but I believe it will be allowed, that a woman exquisitely charming, without the least seeming consciousness of it; & a Poet who never paid a compliment but where it was justly due; are two of the greatest rarities on I have the honor to be &c:

earth.

NOTES FROM ST. PETERSBURG.

IN a recent number of the European Messenger, Mr. V. Spasovitch, one of the most famous advocates in St. Petersburg, has inserted an address which he delivered before the Literary Fund upon the question of literary property. After discussing the history of the laws that regulate literary property in various countries, he comes to the conclusion that the legislation of Russia is in many respects deficient, as the pirate is restrained from infringing the copyright rather by fear of judicial process than by any punishment which would follow by the law, and also that a copyright for the author's life, and for a period of fifty years after his death, is greatly too long. It is owing to this lengthy period to which the rights of authorship extend, that there now exists no cheap nor perfect edition of the works of the poet Pushkin, who died in 1837; the publishers merely reprint from the old copies, and even add to their mistakes. In general Mr. Spasovitch is not a partisan of author's rights. He is opposed to the conclusion of any convention with other countries for their protection, as he says that the book-market in Russia is so large that foreign countries are not able to fill it, and that, therefore, the Russians should have the right of reprinting and of translating as many foreign works as they please without any payment. He even goes so far as to say that there should be no property whatever in private letters or other papers; that after the writer's death they have an historical interest; but that they should be allowed to be published by any one who chooses, the law protecting the fame of the writer against libel or scandal by an action.

About a year and a half ago the Russian World, which has lately distinguished itself by being the first Russian newspaper to employ a special travelling correspondent abroad to report the journey of the Emperor, was engaged in a dispute with the Minister of War, and contained many very bitter criticisms. An action was brought against Col. Komaroff, the editor and proprietor, for slandering the Minister of War and his proceedings, and he was obliged to retire from the paper, which has now passed into the hands of General Tchernaief, the conqueror of Tashkent, General Fadeief, and others, among whom is said to be the Field-Marshal Prince Bariatinsky. The trial of this suit has just ended, and to the satisfaction of all who like to see the truth come out by fair criticism and exposure of abuses, Col. Komaroff has been acquitted.

An exceedingly entertaining sketch of travel has lately appeared, entitled 'The Search of the Clipper Izumrud for N. Miklukha-Maklay.' This distinguished naturalist, it will be remembered, was landed with two servants at New Guinea in 1870 from a Russian ship, with a small quantity of provisions, and the tools for his scientific researches. In 1872 it was reported that he had died, and great uneasiness was felt, so that the clipper Izumrud (Emerald) was ordered to search