Tnere are two books, lately published, which occupy positions of honour in several of the chief Reviews. One is by Paul clu Chaillu, and entitled The Laud of the Midnight Sun; being a record of summer and winter journeys through Sweden, Norway, Lapland, and Northern Finland, It is enriched with a map, and no fewer than 235 illustrations. The other is Professor Darwin's highly interesting and remarkable book on Worms. It is needless to say that both works are bailed by a chorus of approbation. M. clu Chailiu is a very charming writer, and, as the AN sarks, it aust be admitted that in his choice of a now field of labour he has shown as much ingeuuit reproduced hero; our responsibility bei fulfilled when we have pointed out to our readers those works which call most urgently for their own perusal. One rather amusing and characteristic incident may be referred to, M It was ones invited to distant part of Nonway, and this is how he describes his this ceremony. soon after and asked the old folks if work is, however, must vickd Ge pala to that of th naturalist, "At the touch of his tr named builds atolls, islands, and ocean-kingdoms." Another book much talked of in the papers before us we have already referred to—Sir Richard Whittington, Lord Mayor of Lonlon. Both the Atheneum and the Spectator have delightful articles upon this work, The picture drawn of Whittington's London is a very curious one. To see the city as Whittington said it, we are told, "we must imagine a small, compact town, enclosed by a wall two miles and a quarter in length; a town smaller, for instance, in area than the moderuJerusalem—snaller than Hyde Park. 'There is no pavement in the streets, and they are not kept clean. There is no lighting at night... The rich merchants' residences are great inns, standing foursquare round a court, like the houses in Franco. Outside, they are rich with painted crests and coats of arms, glorious carving in black timber, and picturesque gables. Within, the rooms are dark and low, but every large house has one great hall, where the sunlight, through painted windows, falls upon rich tapestry bright with colour; on robes of many hues, edged with precious fur and set with pearls; on gold chains of ofice; on sideboards covered with goblets and plate of gold." There is a strong flavour of Harrison Ainsworth about these quaint memories, We notice that among the contributors to Good Words for the coming year ate the Archbishop of Canterbury, Me. Henry Ieving, Mr. Froude, Mr. Anthony Trollope, Mrs. Oliphant, the Bishop of Peterborough, and Professor Robertson Smith, It seems, by the way, that people have been misled with respect to the epitaph on Professor Clifford. It not run—T lived, and did a little but, "I laced," ete, This surely feebler. What, or whom, did he love?
What is the point of the statement? And why is the fact of his temporary exis. tence ignored? We are inclined to hope that it is this new reading that is iuaccurate; Imt the Spectator has been corrected by several of the late Professor's friends, and they ought to know. The Spectator contains a somewhat dramatic sketch of a day's proceedings ina Police Court, which is onterta ough, and an article upon the possible retirement of Leo XIU from There is another article, tov, which vantage, on Women The Poetry Column cou-pretty little poem called brings the peaceful ages of yore into vivid contrast with the ies and turuoils of the present day, rather cakes of ten-leares, Th intellect," writes the mixed with rice-cakes and as to produce a red liquid. he bitter was toned down by ginger and orange peel. It was then used as a stimulant. Brom all this it aay be deduced that bloc! which the Chinese call red tea, came into use before green tea, and that it was thirteen or fourteen hundred sears ago when the inhabitants of southern and western China began to Gud out the excellence of the infusion made from the leaves of the shrub which they called Ming, or Cl'a, or Kia. It wasa useless, or event we could norer do without these humble creatures, They, and they alone, in their countless quillions, and by their ceaseless, hidden toil, lave made the globe what itis, fit for agriculture and the residen of man... All things considered, Dr. Da win inclines to rank the earthworm higher the scale of constructive agencies than coral insect itself, though the last-beads, vf and glee 5 rioted in pleasant meads, In the o'd, dear days in Ateady.
The most interesting chapter in poetry, paver, is ty be found in the Saturday, e." Avthue O'Shaughessy's Suuys of " Worker are beginning to united now that their author is dead.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.