over
the remains of Josiah Sturgis, at Mount Auburn.

* * * * *

ORIGINAL POETRY.

* * * * *

THE CHILD OF FAME.

BY MRS. M.E. HEWITT.

"Je vivrai eternellement."--_La vie de Sappho. Traduction de
Madame Dacier._

Nay--call me not thy rose--thine own sweet flower,
For oh, my soul to thy wild words is mute!
Leave me my gift of song--my glorious dower--
My hand unchanged, and free to sweep the lute.

Thus, when within the tomb thy memory slumbers,
Mine, mine will tie of those immortal names
Sung by the poet in undying numbers:
Call me not thine--I am the world's and fame's!

Were it not blissful, when from earth we sever,
To know that we shall leave, with bard and sage,
A name enrolled on fame's bright page forever--
A wonder, and a theme to after age!

Talk not of love! I know how, wasted, broken,
The trusting heart learns its sad lesson o'er--
Counting the roses Passion's lips have spoken,
Amid the thorns that pierce it to the core.

Oh, heart of mine! that when life's summer hour
For thee with love's bright blossoms hung the bough,
Too quickly found an asp beneath the flower--
And is naught left thee but ambition now?

Alas! alas! this brow its pride forsaking,
Would give the glory of its laurel crown
For one fond breast whereas to still its aching--
For one true heart that I might call mine own!

* * * * *

[FROM THE NATIONAL ERA.]

ELDORADO: ADVENTURES IN THE PATH OF EMPIRE.[2]

BY J.G. WHITTIER.

With something of the grateful feeling which prompted the memorable
exclamation of Sancho Panza, "Blessings on the man who first invented
sleep!" we have laid down these pleasant volumes. Blessings on the man
who invented books of travel for the benefit of home idlers! the Marco
Polos, the Sir John Mandevilles, and the Ibn Batutas of old time, and
their modern disciples and imitators! Nothing in the shape of travel
and gossip, by the way, comes amiss to us, from Cook's voyages round
the earth to Count De Maistre's journey round his chamber. When the
cark and care of daily life and homely duties, and the weary routine
of sight and sound, oppress us, what a comfort and refreshing is it to
open the charmed pages of the traveler! Our narrow, monotonous horizon
breaks away all about us; five minutes suffice to take us quite o