significant under his
nose. I was reminded of this, on taking a little boy, three years old,
to the top of the New York Reservoir. Placing him on one of the
parapets, I endeavored to call his attention to the more salient and
distant features of the extended prospect; but the little fellow's mind
was too immature to be at all appreciative of them. His interest was
confined to what he saw going on in a dirty inclosure on the opposite
side of the street, where two or three goats were moving about. After
watching them with curious interest for some time, "See, see!" said he,
"dem is pigs down dare!" Was there need for quarrelling with my fine
little man for seeing pigs where there were only goats, or goats where
there was much worthier to be seen?

AFTER THE BATTLE.

A brave deed performed, a noble object accomplished, gives a fillip to
the spirits, an exhilaration to the feelings, like that imparted by
Champagne, only more permanent. It is, indeed, admirably well said by
one wise to discern the truth of things, and able to give to his thought
a vigorous expression, that "a man feels relieved and gay when he has
put his heart into his work and done his best; but what he has said or
done otherwise shall give him no peace."

APPLAUSE.

Noble acts deserve a generous appreciation. Indeed, it is a species of
injustice not to warmly applaud whatever is wisely said or ably done.
Fine things are shown that they may be admired. When the peacock struts
about, it is to show what a fine tail he has.

ARTISTS.

The artist's business is with the beautiful. The repugnant is outside of
his province. Let him study only the beautiful, and he will always be
pleased; let him treat only of the beautiful, with a true feeling for
it, and he will always give pleasure.

The artist must love both his art and the subjects of his art. Nothing
that is not lovable is worth portraying. In the portrait of Rosa
Bonheur, she is appropriately represented with one arm thrown
affectionately around the neck of a bull. She must have loved this order
of animals, to have painted them so well.

AUTHORS.

Instead of the jealousies that obtain among them, there is no class that
ought to stand so close together, united in a feeling of common
brotherhood, to strengthen, to support, and to encourage, by mutual
sympathy and interchange of genial criticism, as authors. A sensitive
race, neglect pierces like sharp steel into the very marrow of their
b