never more rejoiced than when, after all Mr. Macaulay's fuming against Mr. Croker, nearly every count in the critic's indictment was quashed by the masterly rejoinder of Kit North. "The Critic Caught" is a scene to be enjoyed, even above the revelling of the gods, in the spectacle of Mars and Venus, caged by the invisible wires of the jealous Vulcan.

But to return. How much did that sublimely censorious individual gain in his credit by his remark about Schiller's "Robbers:" "If I were a god, and was deliberating whether I should create a world, and foresaw that in that world Schiller's Robbers was to appear, I would not create it!" Some severe criticisms may be enjoyed. For instance; there is something infinitely amusing in the manner in which Voltaire traces back the genealogy of two historians, Briocké and Parfait, to the Prince of Fools. With all the deliberation of an antiquarian, he enumerates sire, grandsire, great grandsire, and so on, until the distinguished common ancestor is found, and the genealogical claim of the children of stupidity is incontrovertibly established. Who could help being amused by the manner in which the Foreign Quarterly, in its shameful criticism on American poets, settles the claim of the author of “ Washington" to oblivion. "The author says he is gathering the effect of its publication from the 'loophole of retreat.' We hope it is a 'retreat' provided for him by his friends; in which case, we advise them to stop up the 'loophole,' as communication with the outer world, in his present state, can only increase his excitement." Another clever criticism, of the annihilating species, was aimed by Miss Margaret Fuller at a poem entitled "Saul, A Mystery." "So far as we can find," says she, "the only 'mystery' about this book, is that it was ever published."

Did you ever observe, Timotheus, a breed of dogs, usually nursed and owned by unthrifty people, which grow to an enormous stature, but are entirely useless for all the purposes to which other dogs are applied? Did you ever observe one of these animals at the moment when he discovered a luck. less toad, or grasshopper? Did he not set up an unearthly howl, entice you to the spot, and, having sufficiently enlisted fyour sympathy, bring off the miserable vermin in triumph? Did you ever compare curs of this sort to a certain class of critics?

You are a critic yourself. Your new profession involves functions of this character. You are well aware that, in order to keep up the standard of taste and purify literature, great excellences must not be allowed to screen a book from being censured for small vices. But let both excellences and faults be fairly dealt with. Let not "something black" be made into three black crows. Imitate Channing in your spirit, who seemed to transmit a true image of everything which he criticised, as perfectly as a lens transmits solar rays. Alas! that he should have made that one fearful mistake, so unlike himself, of calling the Cross the "great central gallows of the universe." Timotheus, be always dignified.

There are some things which transpire in the literary world which cannot be too severely handled. But be dignified, notwithstanding. Do not seize a club to demolish an insect. Show up the insignificance of the little pretender with an air of pity, and then let him loose with the charity of Uncle Toby: "Go, poor devil; the world is wide enough for thee and me." Regret that his book was ever written; still more that it was ever published.

If the work

be a lady's, I suppose gallantry must incline you more to praise than censure. If the author be like G. P. R. Jaines, writing so much on a small capital that his novels all seem one and indivisible, and the same narrative, and the same bald philosophizing greet you with a new face every six months, be sorry that the author did not do himself justice by getting the chronic rheu matism in all his joints years ago. If a book be like Dickens' dishonored "Notes," overflowing with rancor and falsehood, say plainly that the book is not only a negative good, but a positive evil; and express your hope that the author will write less under the influence of the bottle in future. If, like Satan Montgomery, a scribbler has assumed the externals of older and better writers, merely to disgrace them, just say of his production, that its virtues are all the virtues of its predecessors, and its vices all its own. If you are reproving some jaundiced, flippant, dishonest critic, like those who sometimes contribute to the "Quarterly," and "Edinburgh," just introduce some little allegory or comparison. Handle him with gloves. For instance; express your wonder if he is not of some kin to Lucian's philosopher, whom, for fear he should sink Charon's very useful skiff, Mercury compelled to divest himself of the following precious catalogue of treasures. Mercury speaks: “O, Jupiter! how great a load of arrogance he carries! how much lacklearning, and captiousness, and vain-glory, and pointless questioning, and thorny reasoning, and perplexed conceits: yes! and very much witless labor and not a little drivelling, and doating, and nonsense; and, by Jove! pitiful self-indulgence, and shamelessness, and envy, and greediness, and effeminacy! for these things have not escaped my notice, in spite of your attempts to conceal them! Lay aside, too, that falsehood and self-puffing vanity, and the supposition that you are better than others. Inasmuch as if you should em. bark with all this luggage, what hulk of a seventy-four, I should like to know, would support your weight?"

In offering to the public the second No. of our Magazine, we would here express our grateful acknowledgments both to editors generally and to many private individuals, for their highly commendatory notices of our work, and their good wishes for its success.

We are happy to number among our contributors, some of the best female writers of the day.

Our thanks are especially due to our country's distinguished poetess, both for her excellent poem and its accompanying note, sent us, expressive of her approval of our new enterprise.

We designed occasionally to scatter "Flowers" in the path of our guests, but did not expect to be able to present them with a floral wreath arranged by the skilful hand of Mrs. Sigourney.

We are happy to publish in our columns such verses as those furnished us by Miss E. G. Barber, of New Haven, on the "Landing of the Pilgrims," from a painting by Flagg. Those who have not viewed the painting, will find a beautiful transcript of it adorning our columns.

"The Cathedral of Milan," by Mr. L'Amoureux, is written with much taste, and beauty of style. The graphic description of all parts of this stupendous structure, will not fail to charm all lovers of the fitting and the beautiful.

The practical truth so well brought out in the article on orators and demagoguues deserves attention in this age of itinerant lecturers and public meetings. Both the press and the platform are instruments of incalculable power for good or for evil, and it may be laid down as a rule in controversy of all kinds, that it is generally best to conquer an adversary with his own weapons. We confess that to us it is not only astonishing, but provoking, that learned speakers should so frequently be unnatural elocutionists. They do not write with the idea of an audience before their eyes, and when they come to recite what they have written, they discover their mistake, and failure is the consequence.

"Sunset after Rain," sparkles like a circlet of gems. We like such sprinklings from the fount of Castalia.

"The Blue Stocking" will speak for herself.

"Classic Vagaries" are a little more vagrant in this number than the last, but we think equally instructive and amusing. Our friends now at the Springs and the Sea-coast, will be able to appreciate the retirement and salubrity of the Horatian villa nestled between the "twin mountains," although we suspect that Horace, who was no tee-totaller, would have preferred a draught from the fountain of Bandusia mixed with a eup of Falernian, to the medicinal waters of Saratoga—and that our classical correspondent is so much of a Roman, that he would rather wander on the beach at Baiæ, than on the shores of the Atlantic.

The article on Ireland is written with extraordinary ability; indeed, as with a "pen of iron, and the point of a diamond." Its author is acquainted with the country, and has studied the character of its inhabitants; nay, he has even sat on the same platform in "Concilliation Hall" with Daniel O'Connel. In the next article he will give us a peep into the blunders and cruelties of the English in Ireland, and their effect upon the charac. ter and condition of its people. Both nations shall have their due.

"Tros Tyriusve, nullum discrimen habetur."

We regret that we have been obliged to consign several contributions to the "Balaam Box;" had we burned them we should have said "peace to their ashes," but we prefer retaining them as curiosities. Some, more worthy, have been accepted and will appear in our next.