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your subjects; get the printer's devil to punctuate them, and then label them according to fancy,"translations from the German,” “ Cherokee,” or “Sanscrit.” If you have any friends whom you would gratify, insist upon it that you are sorry that there is not room enough left for them to contribute. They will be sure to feel the compliment—take the hint—write something for the next number, and you will enjoy the pleasure of seeing the next Editor in a pucker.

I would also caution you, gentlemen, against “ Plagiarists." You must nover be duped by them. And this you cannot better guard against, than by first copying, yourself, a portion of some well-known author, and afterwards giving it a most withering review in your Editors' Table. It will be like placing a scarecrow in your literary field to keep off “trespassers."

In general, it will be best for you not to have any “ Editors' Table,” for although you are there privileged to act the buffoon with impunity, yet you are expected to act it well, and none but those who do it naturally can succeed. Permit me with all modesty to say, that I flatter myself that I am an exception.

Your last and greatest trouble will be to infuse interest into your Magazine. In this it will be absurd to oppose the public taste, even though it be vitiated. You must pander to it. Nothing that is high-toned, or sensible, must be permitted to cross it. If it desires wit, you must at least attempt a pun; if humor, some one must sit for a picture; if sarcasm, then must an editor be cut up and served out. Nothing less will satisfy your readers, and you need never fear insulting their common sense, for no one would ever suppose that you alluded to that.

Lastly, always announce your Magazine three months before it is actually to appear. It shows that you aro, at least, thinking about it, and are meditating upon a family crisis. It excites curiosity, too, renders a mystery still more mysterious, keeps your readers in a delectable state of suspense, makes them willing to discount their due-bills, to be satisfied with any thing, and to inwardly pray for your safe and speedy delivery. When bringing it forth at last, swear the coffin is full-the printer a knave you yourself a hero—and every one who does not believe it, will yet admire your indopendence and spirit. These, gentlemen, are some of the suggestions I would make to you on parting. Others I could add, but my time is up, and simply remarking that you, of course, are expected to pay for the supper with which we have treated you, I would in the name of my associates say to you that mournful word, “ good night.”

Hero King Jowl, Bardolph, Hotspur, and Hal, vanished into air, never more to be seen, while Lean Jack, not being cut out for ærial voyages, attempted to descend from the Sanctum by the stairway. The last that was ever heard of him, was a muttered “ blood and thunder," as he fell down the fourth flight of stairs.

LITERARY SANCTUM, June. A peep, reader, only a peep, and we shall leave them to their mirth. Look yonder in the corner! would you ever recognize an old acquaintance in Ephraim Smooth? Note him well; see his foxy hair, which some in derision call “ carroty red," but which he insists is a “beautiful auburn;" mark the cut of his dress; the “curve of grace" prominent in every thing; see his old white hat; his segar in his mouth; his feet upon the top of the mantle piece ; see him, how he stares at a heroic verse he has found in the coffin, and notice with what ease he scratches his head as he tries to remember King Jowl's advice about making poetry out of doggerel. Did you ask who that was on the other side, in his undress uniform? What, the one in whose face a laugh and a frown seem squabbling for the mastery; the one that has such an air of “nonchalance" about him, and who leans back in his chair, as though he had nothing in the world to do? Why, that is “Mr. Habakuk Quick!" No, he is not lazy, reader; not in the least. It is only a genteel carelessness; a stray fancy. But he is generous, too generous of his time, and you must bear with him, else the minutes will be hours. Remember he is our Secretary. Ah! I see you already know that one in the arm chair, who is busy making memoranda of “ promises to pay.” Yes, that is " Jonathan Doolittle," the Treasurer. Did you say that he owed you a visit ? Well, he'll pay it, never fear. Did you request him to call to-morrow?' Yes, yes. I'll tell him to be there punctually. He'll come.

And do you know also those two persons who are sitting astride the “ balaam box," and laughing their eyes out at the "curiosities." What! not know “Mr. Tobias Slow” and “Mr. Theophrastus Augustus Stubbs." Let me introduce them! Splen. did fellows they are too; and can see through a joko as well as anybody, when it is

explained. But come, let's leave them to themselves! What, not willing to go ? Well, only one inoment more!

Ephraim Smooth runs his fingers through his locks, so as to make each hair stand up for itself. (Mr. Habakuk Quick, slowly taking his pipe out of his mouth, rises and crosses his hands under his coat tail.) “I say, Smooth, -Smooth,—I say !"-(giving a long low whistle,) “wh-e-e-eu-what a rip-snorting red head you have got."

Ephraim Smooth. “Any more remarks to make, Mr. Quick ?"
But reader, come, bid them adieu for the present.
The following was found the next morning on the floor.

Resolved, That we do hereby resolve ourselves into a Committee of the Whole, to discuss the State of our Union, also, that we do go into an election for the purpose of choosing a Chairman, Scrivener, Treasurer, Proof-Reader, and Secretary of War."

On the first ballot for chairman, each one voted for himself, and Ephraim Smooth, who was acting Speaker, gave the casting vote in his own favor.

sir!"

sir !"

LITERARY NOTICES. COLLEGIANA.—The following Literary Notice will explain itself to those who are initiated. To those who are not, we would say, never seek to fathom the mystery.

Tutor X. “Mr. C., you were absent from morning prayers and recitation! Have you any excuse to offer ?” TRIAL NO. I. I TRIAL NO. II.

TRIAL NO. III. Student. “ Yes, sir, I was Student. “ Sick, sir !” Tutor. " And so you were sick.”

Tutor. Too sick to go really sick this morning." Tutor. “Well--ahem-out ?

1 Student. “ Yes, sir, I was ah-what was the matter?” S. “ Yes, sir, didn't leave sick, and I had a headache S. “Had a headacho, my room.

1-and it was a severe one1 T. “ Did you go to break- and I couldn't go out, and if I T. “A very bad one?" fast?"

could—I wouldn't-and if I S. “ Very bad indeed, S. “I didn't go out, I tell would, I didn't-and if I did, you, sir.”

it was not to breakfast and T. "All the time?” I T. “ I know! but did you what is more-I've been S. “Yes sir, all the time!" go to dinner?"

sick for a month-only I T. “Was it dropsical and S. “No, sir, havn't been didn't like to say so-and I sickening, or merely tempo- out to-day, sir."

havn't eaten any thing for a rary."

| T. “Well—did you hear week-and I did go to see a Š. “Sa-ar! oh-ah-it the bell this morning ?” physician, and he was not was-was both, sir!" | S. “Yes, sir, both of in-and I went again, and T“Did it ache when them!”

he did say it was very bad the bell rang?"

IT. “Did you wake up indeed--and he did give mo S. “ Yes, sir! I think it when you heard it ?” a prescription, and I should did—but I didn't hear thel S. “Shouldn't like to say have taken it, only I lost it. bell, my alarm woke me." certainly, sir! but I believe And I am telling you the

T. “Did you call in a re-/I was asleep when it first truth, and I am not mistaken spectable physician? What woke me!"

and I am positive—and I did he say or think ?”

T. “ Are you positive ?" am in earnest-and I was S. “ Yes, sir, ‘Dr. Gull ; S. “ Yes, sir !

unwell all the time and I ho didn't say any thing, sir !| T. “And you are sure can prove it by my roombut thought it was a very that you are telling the truth mate—and here is the phydecided case' !"

and not laboring under a sician's note, and T. “ Well—I don't know! mistake?”

T. “You are excused, but as we have never before S. “ Can't be sure, sir, Mr. C." had a case of this kind on but think I am." hand, I will refer the mat- T. “ Well—just call up ter!"

to my room, I should like to

Task you a few questions.” I C. “ I say, Jack, what a darnod screw our Tutor is shouldn't wonder if he thought I was lying-and to tell the truth, I was-only I shouldn't have told half so many if he hadn't pushed me. I guess I'll tell him a whopper next time, and astonish him so that he'll forget his screws." (Exit Jack and “C.," laughing.)

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This result is achieved not only by the marvelous contrivances of the present era, but by those ancient inventions, painting, sculpture, and writing. It is one object of the fine arts to enliven existing notions, and awake to new vigor ideas that already lie slumbering in the soul. The arts of painting and sculpture flourish to maturity only in the highest perfection of civilization. At such a period they lose their first character of simple utility, when it is their sole purpose to make thought seen, and contribute to the luxury of an age when wealth has emancipated a large class from the necessity of constant toil, and cultivated intellect and taste demand appropriate gratification. The artist is impelled to his labor, not only by that love of ideal beauty which exists in his mind, but also by the hope that fame will give bim a reputation, brilliant as the hues of his own colors, and much more lasting. The desire of wealth may also mingle in his wishes without degrading the nobleness of his high aspirations. The encouragement necessary to stimulate his exertions is furnished only in a state of society when his works may be sought to adorn the mansions of wealth and the palaces of nobility; when mind is polished to derive keen pleasure from the perception of beauty in works of art; when taste is cultured to such delicacy as to appreciate inventive and imitative skill, to be improved by the view of its productions, and qualified thus to admire still more successful efforts of creative genius. Civilization ripens the luxury of art. The fine arts, however, are matured into the perfection which they ultimately attain, by the assiduous cultivation given to the germs of them which spring up in a rude state of society. The uncouth figures which the Indian makes upon a piece of bark with the point of his arrow, representing by the rough sketch some event that he wishes to narrate, merit greater notice than their intrinsic worth can claim. In executing his design he exercises the same faculties which work in the mind of Canova or Titian, as they pursue their labors on the marble or the canvas. His rude carving marks VOL. XL.

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