she tortured, imprisoned and murdered, and whose own paternal,
patriotic, great heart she broke; the Venice of gay gallants, and
noble, beautiful ladies; the Venice of mumming, masking, and the
carnival; the bright, beautiful Venice of Shakspeare, Otway, and
Byron; joyous, loving Venice; cruel, fatal Venice!

* * * * *

MODERN SATIRE.--A satire on everything is a satire on nothing;
it is mere absurdity. All contempt, all disrespect, implies
something respected, as a standard to which it is referred; just
as every valley implies a hill. The _persiflage_ of the French
and of fashionable worldlings, which turns into ridicule
the exceptions and yet abjures the rules, is like Trinculo's
government--its latter end forgets its beginning. Can there be a
more mortal, poisonous consumption and asphyxy of the mind than
this decline and extinction of all reverence?--_Jean Paul_.




_WINTER PICTURES FROM THE POETS._


Although English Poetry abounds with pictures of the seasons, its
Winter pictures are neither numerous, nor among its best. For
one good snow-piece we can readily find twenty delicate Spring
pictures--twinkling with morning dew, and odorous with the
perfume of early flowers. It would be easy to make a large
gallery of Summer pictures; and another gallery, equally large,