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Skelton; a very child might have read her counte- have durable characteristics. They have the "qualnance, open, confiding, expressing strong feeling, ities to wear well" which are spoken of in Goldbut neither hardened in depravity, nor capable of smith's Vicar; and which to this hour have kept cunning; her story bore out this impression. the gown of the good Mrs. Primrose as fresh as Under the influence of the man she loved, she had when she bought it for her wedding-day. passed forged notes; adding one more to the melancholy list of those, who by the finest impulses of our nature, uncontrolled by religion, have been but lured to their own destruction.

"She was ordered for execution-the sentence was unlooked for her deportment in the prison had been good—amenable to regulations, quiet and orderly; some of her companions in guilt were heard to say, that they supposed she was chosen for death because she was better prepared than the rest of them.

*

"Her case excited the strongest compassion; Mrs. Fry was urged even vehemently to exert herself in behalf of the unfortunate woman; there were circumstances of extenuation, though not of a nature to alter the letter of the law. Amongst other attempts she made one through the Duke of Gloucester. They had not seen each other for many years, not since the days of the scarlet riding-habit, and the military band, at Norwich. How differently did they meet now-on what altered ground renew their acquaintance. Life had been tried by them both-the world and its fascinations. The Duke of Gloucester came to Newgate; and his former companion in the dance led him with sober if not solemn brow through the gloom and darkness of that most gloomy of prisons. He made a noble effort to save Skelton by an application to Lord Sidmouth; he accompanied Mrs. Fry to the bank directors, but all was in vain; the law took its course, and she was hanged."

We regret that we cannot subjoin the entire account of her exertions in this case. She ceased intercourse with Lord Sidmouth because of his conduct in relation to it. She pressed her way even to royalty, but with no immediate effect. What the effect of her exertions proved, however, in a wider sense, we shall have the opportunity of remarking when the completion of the memoir is before us.

The editorial portion of the present volume is executed with great tact and delicacy. A subject is never too much insisted upon. The allusions in the journals are illustrated with as much brevity as care; and the style of comment and description is of a pleasant old-world kind, picturesque, and with a touch of quaintness. We greatly like the general tone and spirit of the book. It is a book to make a kind man's eye" sparkle benignantly," as Boswell describes Johnson's to have done at the sayings and doings of the Elizabeth Fry of his day.

From the Examiner.

There are some writers of whom we cannot think as writers merely. Incidentally we have named one, and we have a modern example before us. There is little danger in predicting of Mr. Leigh Hunt, that, in the admiration with which another race of readers is likely to regard him, personal affection will mingle largely. Nor does it seem to us that the life of a man of letters, however chequered by toil or hardship, can have a nobler or more delightful reward. Mere critical approbation fades before it. No appeals to the judgment can enrich a reputation that has already found its way to the heart.

In the writings here collected, as in the books by which Mr. Hunt is better known, we see how and why this is. Prince Hamlet selected for his friend the man who had "good spirits" for his revenue; and Prince Posterity will do the same. The buffets and rewards of fortune have been alike to Mr. Hunt; his equal thanks for what is good and noble in the world have not been intercepted by its accidents or pains; and nothing so truly contributes as this cheerful philosophy to the estate "which wits inherit after death." It is with becoming satisfaction and well-warranted self-respect that Mr. Hunt speaks, at the close of his preface to this book, of having done his best, in all his writings, to recommend that belief in good, that cheerfulness in endeavor, that discernment of universal beauty, that brotherly consideration for mistake and circumstance, and that repose on the happy destiny of the whole human race, which have always appeared to him not only the healthiest and most animating principles of action, but the only truly religious homage to him that made us all. So would he console himself, he remarks, for those short-comings either in life or writings which most men of any power of reflection are bound to discover in themselves as they grow old. "Let adversity," he concludes, "be allowed the comfort of these reflections; and may all who allow them experience the writer's cheerfulness, with none of the troubles that have rendered it almost his only possession."

to such a consummation: but till such a determina

Is it to be in this case, then, as in so many others, that the wit's estate of which we have spoken shall be the wit's only inheritance; that all must follow after death, and nothing go before it? We are very loth to think so. Surely, if a recognition of men of letters is ever again to be made or acted on by an English minister, it is eminently called for in the case of Mr. Leigh Hunt. We can, indeed, imagine the state, prodigal to all the services but those of peace and civilization, deciding to take no further heed of literary claims; the niggardly dole dispensed at present seems to point at no distant day tion is plainly avowed, we will not believe that Mr. Hunt can again be overlooked. With even a tory administration his case would be a strong one, for NOTHING has more prominently characterized Mr. his last twenty-five years have been passed in the Leigh Hunt's writing than its warmth and sincer- writing of excellent, unexceptionable books, which ity. He has seldom written anything so slight that have cherished social sympathies, promoted liberal it did not contain some portion of himself; some tastes, and administered to honest enjoyment; but personal verity of experience or thought, which his is a case which men of popular opinions should would some time or other justify its revival. Con- surely consider irresistible, since it was the resolute tributions to periodicals have been properly called maintenance of those opinions in unpopular times fugitive, for what they do themselves, as well as which has harassed and impeded his every later make their readers do; but the sketches before us exertion. It would have been well for Mr. Hunt

Men, Women, and Books: a Selection of Sketches,
Essays, and Critical Memoirs, from his uncol-
lected Prose Writings. By LEIGH HUNT. Two
Vols. Smith and Elder.

But they are delightful volumes for extract, and we shall best deserve the reader's thanks by expressing their merits in that way.

"Here is a question put and answered irresistibly:

if his Eldon and Ellenborough sacrifices had been | fact and imagination. We pass from the inside of only in purse and person. He suffered in good an omnibus into the very thick of the world of name. He lost ground in reputation. His talents books; leave Jack Abbott's breakfast to join an were cheapened and made of less account. To evening party with Peregrine Pickle, Parson Adams, expenses in law inflicted on him in those days, are and Clarissa; and contrast the sorrows and joys of to be added calumnies in literature, which, regarded immortal men with "The Day of the Disasters of at their worth by intelligent men, could not so be Carfington Blundell, Esquire.' regarded by booksellers who have to cater for all men. And this for saying something less, and in far more moderate language, than is now said daily without question! Why, if the existing ministry were simply to resolve to pay back to Mr. Hunt, with legal interest, what was unjustly taken from him in so much hard money by their predecessors, it might satisfy the present claim. But let the curious reader turn back to the papers of the time -let him see what it was, and for what, Mr. Hunt suffered-let him balance the account with Catholic claims, with parliamentary reform, with army flogging, with free trade, with liberty of free speech with everything that then outlawed and now exalts a man-and say honestly, and without exaggeration, how he conceives Mr. Hunt's account to stand with a liberal ministry.

We have wandered from the collection of essays, but the reader will forgive the digression. It is a reprint from the magazines and reviews (including the Edinburgh) to which Mr. Hunt has contributed during the last quarter of a century; and is full of variety, beauty, and cheerfulness. It is a book to lie in the cherished corner of a pleasant room, and to be taken up when the spirits have need of sunshine. It ranges through every subject indicated in its comprehensive title-women of beauty and wit; men of scholarship and genius; deathless books-and in its fancy and understanding, its reason and imagination, lovingly embraces all. For what says the writer?

"I can pass, with as much pleasure as ever, from the reading of one of Hume's essays to that of the Arabian Nights, and vice versû; and I think, the longer I live, the closer, if possible, will the union grow. The roads are found to approach nearer in proportion as we advance upon either, and they both terminate in the same prospect.

"I am far from meaning that there is nothing real in either road. The path of matter of fact is as solid as ever; but they who do not see the reality of the other, keep but a blind and prone beating upon their own surface To drop the metaphor, matter of fact is our perception of the grosser and more external shapes of truth; fiction represents the residuum and the mystery. To love matter of fact is to have a lively sense of the visible and immediate; to love fiction is to have as lively a sense of the possible and the remote. Now these two senses, if they exist at all, are of necessity as real, the one as the other. The only proof of either is in our perception.

"Mechanical knowledge is a great and a glorious tool in the hands of man, and will change the globe. But it will still leave untouched the invisible sphere above and about us; still leave us all the great and all the gentle objects of poetry-the heavens and the human heart, the regions of genii and fairies, the fanciful or passionate images that come to us from the seas, and from the flowers, and all that we behold."

The book which the present most resembles in Mr. Hunt's former writings (and this is a great compliment) is the Indicator. For though its papers are longer, they have the same cordial mixture of

"I beg leave to ask the candid reader, how he can prove to me that all the heroes and heroines that have made him hope, fear, admire, hate, love, shed tears, and laugh till his sides were ready to burst, in novels and poems, are not in possession of as perfect credentials of their existence as the fattest of us? Common physical palpability is only a proof of mortality. The particles that crowd and club together to form such obvious compounds as Tomson and Jackson, and to be able to resist death for a little while, are fretted away by a law of their very resistance; but the immortal people in Pope and Fielding, the deathless generations in Chaucer, in Shakspeare, in Goldsmith, in Sterne, and Le Sage, and Cervantes-acquaintances and friends who remain forever the same, whom we meet at a thousand turns, and know as well as we do our own kindred, though we never set gross corporeal eyes on them-what is the amount of the actual effective existence of millions of Jacksons and Tomkinses compared with theirs? Are we as intimate, I wish to know, with our aunt as we are with Miss Western? Could we not speak to the character of Tom Jones in any court in Christendom? Are not scores of clergymen continually passing away in this transitory world, gone and forgotten, while Parson Adams remains as stout and hearty as ever?"

So believing, Mr. Hunt invites himself to an evening party composed of these creatures of the imagination, and paints it so vividly to the life that the last party at Thomson's or Smith's is nothing to it. Observe some new arrivals:

"The next arrival-(conceive how my heart expanded at the sight)-consisted of the Rev. Dr. Primrose, Vicar of Wakefield, with his family, and the Miss Flamboroughs; the latter red and staring with delight. The doctor apologized for not being sooner; but Mrs. Primrose said she was sure the gentlefolks would excuse him, knowing that people accustomed to good society were never in a flurry on such occasions. Her husband would have made some remark on this; but seeing that she was prepared to appeal to her son, the squire,' who flattered and made her his butt, and that Sir William Thornhill and both the young married ladies would be in pain, he forebore. The Vicar made haste to pay his respects to Sir Charles and Lady Grandison, who treated him with great distinction, Sir Charles taking him by the hand, and calling him his good and worthy friend.' I observed that Mr. Moses Primrose had acquired something of a collected and cautious look, as if determined never to be cheated again. He happened to seat himself next to Peregrine Pickle, who informed him, to his equal surprise and delight, that Captain Booth had written a refutation of materialism. He added that the captain did not choose at present to be openly talked of as the author, though he did not mind being complimented upon it in an obscure and ingenious way. I noticed after this that a game of cross

purposes was going on between Booth and Moses, which often forced a blush from the captain's lady. It was with much curiosity I recognized the defect in the latter's nose. I did not find it at all in the way when I looked at her lips. It appeared to me even to excite a kind of pity, by no means injurious to the most physical admiration; but I did not say this to Lady Grandison, who asked my opinion on the subject. Booth was a fine strapping fellow, though he had not much in his face. When Mr. and Mrs. Booby (the famous Pamela) afterwards came in, he attracted so much attention from the latter, that upon her asking me, with a sort of pitying smile, what I thought of him, I ventured to say in a pun that I looked upon him as a very good 'Booth for the fair;' upon which to my astonishment she blushed as red as scarlet, and told me that her dear Mr. B. did not approve of such speeches. My pun was a mere pun, and meant little; certainly nothing to the disadvantage of the sentimental part of the sex, for whom I thought him by no means a finished companion. But there is no knowing these precise people.'

PARSON ADAMS.

"One of the bitterest sights in the world, to a lover of equal dealing, is the selfish and conceited arrogance with which the rich demand virtues on the side of the poor, which they do not exercise themselves. The rich man lies through his lawyer-through his dependant-through his footman; lies when he makes 'civil speeches;'-lies when he subscribes articles; lies when he goes to be married (vide Marriage Service;) lies when he takes the oaths and his seat;'-but that the poor man should lie! that he should give a false promise!-that he should risk the direful, and unheard-of, and unparliamentary crime of political perjury! Oh, it is not to be thought of! Think of the example-think of the want of principle-think of the harm done to the poor man's own mind'-to his sense of right and wrong-to his eternal salvation. Nay, not that neither;-they have seldom the immodesty to go as far as that. But what enormous want of modesty to go so far as they do! Why should the poor man be expected to have scruples which the rich laugh at? Why deny him weapons which they make use of against himself?-in this respect, as in too many others, resembling their noble' feudal ancestors, who had the nobleness to fight in armor, while the common soldier was allowed none."

POPE AS REVEALED IN HIS LETTERS.

"Bear witness, spirit of everything that is true, that, with the exception of one or two persons, only to be produced in these latter times, we love such a man as Abraham Adams better than all the char- the best kind of sincerity, and of the most exquisite "There are abundant proofs in these letters of acters in all the histories of the world, orthodox or not orthodox. We hold him to be only inferior to could moderately afford) were ever open to his friends, good sense. Pope's heart and purse (which he a Shakspeare; and only then because the latter let his assertions to that effect be taken by a shaljoins the height of wisdom intellectual to his wisdom low and envious cunning in as much evidence to the cordial. He should have been Shakspeare's chapHe was manifestly kind to lain, and played at bowls with him. What a sound contrary as it pleases. heart-and a fist to stand by it! This is better than voked his wit and self-love a little too far; and then everybody in every respect, except when they proSir Charles' fencing, without which his polite per- only, or chiefly, as it affected him publicly. He son-(virtue included)—would often have been in had little tricks of management, we dare say; that an awkward way. What disinterestedness! What feeling! What real modesty! What a harmless must be an indulgence conceded to his little crazy spice of vanity-Nature's kind gift-the comfort body, and his fear of being jostled aside by robuster exaction; and we will not swear that he was never we all treasure more or less about us, to keep ourdisingenuous before those whom he had attacked. selves in heart with ourselves! In fine, what a That may have been partly owing to his very kindregret of his Eschylus! and a delicious forgetting that he could not see to read if he had had it!ness, uneasy at seeing the great pain which he had Angels should be painted with periwigs, to look like him."

Most unanswerable arguments for the ballot are condensed in a masterly appeal

AGAINST LYING.

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given; for his satire was bred in him by reading satire (Horace, Boileau, and others :) and it was doubtless more bent on being admired for its wit than feared for its severity, exquisitely severe though he could be, and pleased as a man of so feeble a body must have been at seeing his pen so formida"O love of truth! believer in all good and beau-ble. He fondly loved his friends. We see by this tiful things! believer even in one's self, and there-book, that before he was six and twenty, he had fore believer in others, and such as are far better painted Swift's portrait (for he dabbled in oil paintthan one's self! putter of security into the heart, ing) three times; and he was always wishing Gay of solidity into the ground we tread upon, of loveli- He said on one of these occasions, Talk not of to come and live with him, doubtless at his expense. ness into the flowers, of hope into the stars! retainer of youth in age, and of comfort in adversity! bringer of tears into the eyes that look upon these imperfect words, to think how large and longing the mind of man is, compared with his frail virtues and his transitory power, and what mornings of light and abundance thou hast in store, nevertheless, for the whole human race, preparing to ripen for them in accordance with their belief in its possibility, and their resolution to work for it in loving trust! Oh! LADY MARY MONTAGUE'S QUARREL WITH POPE. shall they be thought guilty of deserting thee, be- "Pope, who seems to have made her acquaintcause, out of the very love of truth, they feel them-ance not long before she left England, was dazzled selves bound to proclaim to what extent it does not by the combination of rank, beauty, and accomexist? because, out of the very love of truth, they plishments into an overwhelming passion. He bewill not suffer those who care nothing for it to pre-came an ardent correspondent; and the moment she tend to a religious zeal in its behalf, when the lie returned, prevailed on her to come and live near to be turned against themselves? him at Twickenham. Both he and she were then

expenses; Homer (that is, his translation) will support his children.' And when Gay was in a bad state of health, and might be thought in want of a better air, Pope told him he would go with him to and habitual a homester, would have been little less, the south of France; a journey which, for so infirm than if an invalid now-a-days should propose to go and live with his friend in South America."

at the zenith of their reputation; and here com- | them so, and which grew out of them. The poet's mences the sad question, what it was that brought hand was on the place, blessing it. I can no more so much love to so much hate-tantas animis cales- separate this idea from the spot, than I can take tibus iras. Question, however, it is no longer, for away from it any other beauty. Even in London I the Introductory Anecdotes have settled it. To at- find the principle hold good in me, though I have tribute it to Pope's jealousy of her wit, and to cer-lived there many years, and, of course, associated tain imbroglios about the proprietorship and publi-it with every common-place the most unpoetical. cation of her Town Eclogues, was very idle. Pope The greater still includes the less: and I can no could no more be jealous of her wit, than the sun of more pass though Westminster, without thinking the moon; or, to make a less grand simile, than the of Milton; or the Borough, without thinking of bee in its garden of the butterfly taking a few sips. Chaucer and Shakspeare; or Gray's Inn, without Her own statement' (and a very tremendous state- calling Bacon to mind; or Bloomsbury Square, ment it was, for all its levity) was this; that at without Steele and Akenside-than I can prefer some ill-chosen time, when she least expected what brick and mortar to wit and poetry, or not see a romances call a declaration, he made such passion- beauty upon it beyond architecture, in the splendor ate love to her as, in spite of her utmost endeavors of the recollection. I once had duties to perform to be angry and look grave, provoked an immediate which kept me out late at night, and severely taxed fit of laughter; from which moment he became her my health and spirits. My path lay through a implacable enemy." neighborhood in which Dryden lived; and though nothing could be more common-place, and I used I never to be tired to the heart and soul of me, hesitated to go a little out of the way, purely that I might pass through Gerard street, and so give myself the shadow of a pleasant thought.'

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"A pause comes upon the spirit and the tongue at hearing such an explanation as this;-a pause in which no one of any imagination can help having a deep sense of the blackness of the mortification with which the poor, mis-shaped, applauded poet, must have felt his lustre smitten, and his future That this feeling survives in the writer still, and recollections degraded. To say that he had any still finds graceful and animated expression, is right to make love to her is one thing; yet to be-known to all who read the pleasant articles on the lieve that her manners, and cast of character, as London streets, contributed from week to week to well as the nature of the times, and of the circles in our contemporary the Atlas. which she moved, had given no license, no encouragement, no pardoning hope to the presumption, is OUTRAGE ON A BRITISH SUBJECT IN MEXICO.impossible; and to trample in this way upon the A correspondent in Mexico, whose letter is dated whole miserable body of his vanity and humility, March 31st, sends us the following particulars of upon all which the consciousness of acceptability a most cowardly outrage on the person of a British and glory among his fellow-creatures had given to merchant, residing in that city:-"One morning, sustain himself, and all which in so poor, and fragile, as Mr. D- was riding in the neighborhood of and dwarfed, and degrading a shape, required so Jalapa, he was suddenly fired upon by a party of much to be so sustained;-assuredly it was inex-sir men at about fifteen paces distance; two of the cusable it was inhuman. At all events, it would have been inexcusable, had anything in poor human nature been inexcusable; and had a thousand things not encouraged the flattered beauty to resent a hope so presumptuous from one unlike herself. But if she was astonished, as she professed to be, at his thus trespassing beyond barriers which she had continually suffered to be approached, she might have been more humane in her astonishment. A little pity might, at least, have divided the moment with contempt. It was not necessary to be quite so cruel with one so insignificant. She had address;could she not have had recourse to a little of it, under circumstances which would have done it such special honor? She had every advantage on hering and kicking was in store for him, after which side;-could not even this induce her to put a little more heart and consideration into her repulse? Oh, Lady Mary! A duke's daughter wert thou, and a beauty, and a wit, and a very triumphant and flattered personage, and covered with glory as with lutestring and diamonds; and yet false measure didst thou take of thy superiority, and didst not see how small thou becamest in the comparison when thou didst thus, with laughing cheeks, trample under foot the poor little immortal!"

FAMOUS LOCALITIES.

"I have seen various places in Europe which have been rendered interesting by great men and their works; and I never found myself the worse for seeing them, but the better. I seem to have made friends with them in their own houses; to have walked, and talked, and suffered, and enjoyed with them; and if their books have made the places better, the books themselves were there which made

shots took effect on his horse, and Mr. D— im mediately dismounted and ran into some brushwood near the road-side; he was followed, taken, and afterwards stunned by several blows the rascals gave him on the face and head with the but-ends of their muskets. Being taken before the Gefe Politico, the first thing that worthy did was to have him stripped to the shirt, and on merely finding his Carta de Segurdad' as a British subject, and a 'Licencia para Llevar armos,' he set to work and kicked him well, without assigning any cause for such extraordinary and brutal treatment. Mr. D was afterwards taken before another funetionary, where a second edition of stripping, search

he was dragged to prison. Mr. R——, who was in Jalapa, on hearing this, went to the Gefe Politico, explained that Mr. D- was an Englishman, and demanded his release; the man said he would have him set at liberty, but did not give orders to that effect. The next day, Mr. R- went with Don Ramon Munoz, (the governor of Vera Cruz,) who told the fellow he was incurring a serious responsibility, and advised him to let Mr. D—— out instantly; that evening the door was opened, and Mr. D walked out, without any explanation or apology having been made to him. It seems he was mistaken for an American spy, and had been watched for some days, and the men who had fired on him had received orders to take him dead or alive; they preferred the former mode, not choosing to come to close quarters with an Anglo-Saxon with so small an advantage as six to one. Rwrote us a long letter, detailing the partieulars of the affair, a copy of which we have given

Mr.

to Mr. Bankhead, who has demanded satisfaction from the government for such proceedings against an Englishman."-Examiner, 22 May.

MEXICO. The last intelligence sustains the interminable character of this unaccountable war. Santa Anna, who seems to have been beaten sufficiently to make him sick of pitched battles, continues to retire, while the Americans scarcely venture to advance. There can be no question that Jonathan could beat Don Diego round the circumference of the globe. But Mexico is a huge country, three fourths of it as barren as an African wilderness, and as worthless as it is difficult to conquer. The report is that Santa Anna means at last to try the guerilla system. He can now have no doubt of the danger of the Prussian tactics in the presence of disciplined troops. Still, the Mexicans give no sign of being tired of the contest; the government express their determination of clinging together, let what will happen, and retreating wherever the hills and valleys afford them shelter. They seem already prepared for the capture of the capital; and it is said that they have determined to give up the city on the advance of the Americans, and, in short, to do anything but make peace. We suppose that the whole lazy affair will finish by the dismembering of the territory, and making a dozen provinces out of one helpless and unwieldy republic.

Britannia, 12th June.

those he was prepared; nor their eminent men— whose fame had reached England; but it was the great interest shown everywhere for commercial reform. It proved that the Italians possess expansive sympathies which embrace the whole world. The correspondent of the Morning Chronicle, writing on the 26th, adds

"Mr. Cobden has had an audience to-day of the king, who received him most graciously, and entered at once upon the subject of free trade, saying he highly approved the principles which Mr. Čobden had advocated, and that it was his wish and intention to make reductions in the tariff as soon as possible; a promise which the minister of finance corroborated in the evening, at the English minister's, where Mr. Cobden dined."

Gas-lighting in Rome has been awarded to a French company, and five leading streets are appropriated for their experimental operations.

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"I present this to my favorite," said the first, "the penetrating glance of the eagle, who does not fail to see the slightest fault that is committed throughout his wide kingdom."

"The present is a beautiful one," interrupted the second fairy. "The prince will be a sensible monarch; but the eagle not only possesses the penetraITALY.-Mr. Cobden was entertained at a dinnertion to remark the least faults, but he possesses also a noble contempt for the habit of seeking them out in Turin, on the 24th of May, by some of the most-and this will I give to the prince for my present." influential persons there. He made a brief but animated speech, in French. He declared that the thing which struck him most in Italy was, not their pictures, their monuments, or their ruins-for

"I thank you, sister, for this wise provision," returned the first fairy; "many kings would have been far greater, if they had not lowered themselves by too great a prying into small matters."-Lessing.

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POETRY.-On Leaving a Place, 166-Nature and Art; Emigrant's Song, 180.

SCRAPS.-Assaying Metals, 153-Georgia Hailstorm, 169-Progress of Europe, 174-
Tenure of British India, 175—Anecdote, 182-Mexican Outrage, 191-Mexico; Italy, 192.

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twenty dollars, or two dollars each for separate volumes. Any numbers may be had at 12 cents.

AGENCIES.-The publishers are desirous of making arrangements in all parts of North America, for increas

The LIVING AGE is published every Saturday, by E. LITTELL & Co., at No. 165 Tremont St., BOSTON. Price 12 cents a number, or six dollars a year in advance. Remittances for any period will be thankfully received and promptly attended to. To insure regularity in mail-ing the circulation of this work-and for doing this a ing the work, remittances and orders should be addressed to the office of publication as above.

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