those in the above enumeration, were the only books a child could purchase with his pence; and even of these the best were always the most difficult to procure. Five shops were ransacked for a copy of King Pippin; but the rest, any of the shops could have supplied. Now, one or two pence will purchase a large quantity of interesting and useful literature. Children have now an extensive literature of their own, their larger volumes, their little books, their annuals, their magazines ; * and to speak of those tiny books which children more especially delight to possess, the stupid things with which our own early childhood was obliged to be satisfied, are in the course of being rapidly superseded by others perhaps not less attractive, and certainly far more useful-far more healthily stimulative of the new-born appetite.

Here, then, was at the very first outset, in those days, a difficulty, which-apart from any difficulties of personal position-required something more than all the "silver spoons" in Cornhill, and something more than a concentration of all the "luckiest chances" in the lottery of life, to overcome.

In like manner, in later years, the entire absence of cheap publications, and hence the absolute want, in the homes of working people, of useful books, which they might lend to a poor seeker after knowledge, while the absence of proper lending libraries, precluded even those who could afford to spare a few weekly pence from any other resource than the novel and romance,—were circumstances necessarily continuing the same class of obstacles which required far other endowments than "luck" to overcome. they were overcome; not, though we say it ourselves, by any desultory efforts of what is termed genius or ability, but simply by perseverance. The knowledge we are now master of, has placed and sustained us in a situation of life far superior to the most sanguine hopes of our early years.

Yet

This argument appears so self-evident, that we should deem the statement of it a work of perfect supererogation, were it not that we have had some strong experience in the case of others and in our own, that there is often too much of a disposition to remember nothing but the "luck" of the successful, to forget the long and weary years they had to wait before they could find the doors of knowledge open to them,-how long they were excluded from the feast, yet fainted not, but diligently gathered up the crumbs which fell from the table,--and how very often, in those their self-guided days, they found only stones and unprofitable things, where they had sought the bread of true knowledge with hunger that might not be appeased. Yet there is much in this of the history of hundreds whom their old companions regard only as "fortunate." But this is no marvel; for those who do not like to think must very often be unjust.

It is worthy of notice that the first low-priced magazines were appropriated to the service of children. The Child's Companion, Children's Friend, Teacher's Offering, Tract Magazine, and many others, were established a long while before any decided attempt was made to furnish the general public with cheap periodicals. The above were all religious publications, but contained a great deal of general information.

THE GULF STREAM.

Its track

THE remarkable current between the Bahamas and the American coast, called by navigators the Gulf Stream, is that which passes through the Gulf of Florida, running to the north-east with considerable velocity. It crosses the Atlantic in an easterly direction, sweeps along the shores of the Azores, and turns towards the straits of Gibraltar and the island of Madeira. across the Western Ocean may always be distinguished by the high temperature of the waters, their deep blue colour, the quantity of sea-weed floating on their surface, and by the heat of the surrounding atmosphere. The steadiness with which substances thrown into this stream are carried onward in its course, is strikingly illustrated by the recorded fact, that towards the close of the fifteenth century, before Europeans were acquainted with the existence of America, two bodies of an unknown race of men were cast on the shores of the Azores, and pieces of the indigenous cane of the West Indies were brought by the same current to the little island of Porto Santo. These circumstances are said to have strengthened Columbus in his conclusions with respect to the existence of a Western Continent, and to have led to his subsequent important discovery of the New World.

A TALE OF LA VENDEE.

THE war in La Vendée, the insurrection of the peasants of that devoted district against the authority of the Convention, their determined stand in defence of the monarchy, was one of the most remarkable events which occurred during the progress of the French Revolution, and it has been surrounded with tenfold interest by the publication of the memoirs of the cele

brated Madame de La Rochejaquelin, whose unparalleled adventures and sufferings fill the mind of the reader with astonishment and sympathy.

The district usually denominated La Vendée, comprises more than is

strictly entitled to that name; the prominent part which the Vendéans, properly so called, took in the contest, caused the term to be extended to the whole

tract of country to the south of the Loire, which engaged in the contest. It consists of that part of Poitou called the Pays du Bocage, (the woodlands) part of Anjou and of the Comté Mautais, or, according to the modern division of the country into departments, of parts of the Lower Loire, Maine and Loire, and the two Sèvres and La Vendée.

The district nearly approached the sea coast on the west and south, but a narrow tract on each of those boundaries adhered to the Convention, and thus La Vendée was entirely surrounded by a hostile country, except on the side of Brittany, where the inhabitants were also favourable to the Royal cause, and there the Loire intervened.

The country is peculiar in its character, consisting of low hills and narrow

valleys, few eminences rising to a height sufficient to command an extended Rochelle, and was intersected by numberless cross roads of the most wretched

view. It was traversed by only one great road, that leading from Nantes to

description, forming such a labyrinth that the inhabitants themselves were puzzled if they went far from home. Woods and forests occurred here and there, although of no great extent, but the whole was scattered with trees, in clumps and hedge-rows, and thence obtained the name of Bocage. Every valley possessed its little rill, which, increasing in its onward course, swelled into considerable streams, as they approached the coast.

The inhabitants held but little communication with their neighbours, and lived among themselves in a state of almost patriarchal simplicity. Their chief wealth was in their cattle, and the produce of the soil and their rents were

generally paid in kind. The seigneur and his tenants lived in a state of friendly intercourse, in which all the good, and but little of the evil, of the feudal rela

tion of lord and vassal was experienced.

It is not surprising that a sudden change in the government, arbitrary and oppressive decrees emanating from an unacknowledged and unaccustomed authority, could not be acceptable to a rural population who had never felt,

and consequently could not sympathise with, the grievances which had excited the rest of the nation to madness. The first decrees of the Convention establishing a national guard were unwillingly submitted to by the Vendéans, but the seigneur was elected captain of the troop in every parish. The next step, the deprivation of all the clergy who refused to take the national oath, produced the first display of open opposition; the people assembled in arms to hear mass performed by their old teachers in the open fields, and on several occasions

resisted the attempts made to disperse them; the churches were deserted, and the new clergy were so much detested that one of them who wished to celebrate the mass, could not find one person in a parish containing 4000 souls, who would afford him the means of lighting a taper.

The attempt to levy the conscription at length drove them into open resistance. On the 10th March 1793 the drawing of the conscription was appointed to commence at St. Florens in Anjou. The young men attended and refused to submit; they were attacked by the gens-d'armes, and a piece of cannon was brought out against them. They drove off the gens-d'armes and captured the gun. On that very day two troops were raised, one by Cathelineau, a dealer in wool, and the other by Foret, a countryman. A third was shortly raised by Stofflet, a German who had been for sixteen years a soldier, and was then gamekeeper to the Marquis de Maulevrier. After gaining several advantages over scattered bodies of republican troops, they returned to their homes to keep the feast of Easter, but they re-assembled immediately after, and demanded of the chief gentlemen of the country that they would become their leaders. D'Elbe, Bonchamp, Royraud, Joly, and Lescure (the first husband of Madame de Larochejaquelin), were thus called upon. The celebrated La Charette raised a troop, and Henri de Larochejaquelin, a young man of twenty, who had been one of the king's constitutional guard, and had escaped almost miraculously from the massacre of the 10th of August, raised the peasants on his estates, and addressed them in these memorable words; "Friends!—if my father was here, you would have confidence in him. I am only a boy; but by my courage I will show myself worthy of commanding you. If I advance, follow me! if I give way, kill me if I fall, revenge me."

Their success was such as to create the greatest alarm, and the Convention passed a decree of extermination against this ill-fated country, which was executed to the letter. The resistance of the Vendéans was most obstinate, and

should busy yourself with giving signs and counter-signs to this good man, as if you had exchanged your cocked hat for a helmet." "General," replied the abbé, "God has not interdicted us from exercising prudence. I am doing the best both for you and these gentlemen. I am making arrangements to prevent any surprise, or that at least no traitor may slip in among us."

"Still the same, my friend; ever in dread of spies and surprises. You think all the world is as black as your cassock. For my part, I'm glad I do not hold the same opinion."

"You are in the wrong, general. When the whole fabric of religion and monarchy depend on the safety of a few individuals, no means must be neglected to provide for their security. You are good in war, my dear Stofflet, but, out of the battle-field, you know not how to protect yourself."

"I do not deserve your reproaches, my friend; for in truth I should be as little pleased as you to fall into an ambuscade, to die without fighting these republicans, cut off by a musket-ball, or on the scaffold. But there seems nothing to fear here. Coulon, my secretary, has recommended this place, and this honest man; and why the devil do you wish to frighten us away?"

"I cannot tell," said Bernier, covering his face with his hands, "I cannot tell." Then after a few minutes of silence a sudden idea struck him, and stepping towards Francis, who, with the rest, was busy at the supper-table, he laid his hand on his shoulder. "Young man," said he, "I think you said that two were stationed at the spot where the general met you?"

"Yes," replied Francis, "two of us were on guard; my brother Andrew and myself. The captain of our parish placed us there, and confided to me the pass-word and the secret.

"Why not to your brother also ?" said the abbé, keeping his eyes fixed on the open countenance of Francis. "Oh! I was going to tell you. Andrew, although he is as brave as a lion, is sometimes indiscreet.

"And to whom does he tell his secrets?"

"Oh! to his comrades, Monsieur Bernier, to the villagers, all, like us, under the royal standard."

"To no others?

"Andrew left me as soon as you came up. The general said our service was no longer necessary. As my brother was on the other side of the road, he thought I was following him, and went away.' The abbé, muttering some unintelligible words, retired to the large old-fashioned chimney, and sitting down began to read his breviary; but first he said, "I would recommend you, gentlemen, to snatch an hour or two's repose. Who knows if you will find so favourable an opportunity to-morrow!" "Truly," whispered the Baron Lichteningen to the general, "these are the first sensible words the abbé has uttered to-day." "Comrades," said Stofflet, "let us take the abbé's advice, and whilst he is praying for us, let us sleep for him."

In a few minutes all who had been sitting at the table with Stofflet were asleep, with the exception of Francis, who, disturbed at the questions of the abbé, approached him, and requested him to explain his reasons.

'My child," said the abbé, "I am far from believing your brother to be a traitor; God preserve me from condemning my neighbour without proof; but I, all that are here, are burdened with a fearful responsibility. In three or four hours, all the principal chiefs of the Vendéan army will be assembled under this roof, for the purpose of arranging a movement on which the glory, and perhaps the pacification of the country, depends; if this meeting does not take place, if Stofflet, or the generals who are on the road, passing through the woods without any escort, should be betrayed to the blues, think what a reckoning he will owe to his country, who has traitorously, or even only indiscreetly, revealed so important a secret!"

"But, sir, my brother is incapable of treachery; he has returned to the farm, and if you would only give the word, I would go there."

Francis took the nearest road to his father's house, and crossed fields, hedges, swamps, and ditches; but nothing stopped his course, so anxious was he to remove the doubts entertained by Monsieur Bernier. He had gone a considerable distance, when he was astonished at the appearance of several lights, which appeared to come towards him, and to be proceeding in the direction of La Chaponnière. He stepped aside, and concealed himself behind a bush, through which he had a full view of a body of republican soldiers, who, carrying lanterns, were advancing under the guidance of a countryman, who marched at their head. They passed close to Francis, who, with a thrill of horror, recognised Andrew, in the leader. There he was, with his Vendéan musket, his white cockade, and his sacred scapulary, his hands at liberty, and his head erect. There could be no doubt as to the object of these troops; and swift as an arrow Francis retraced the road to La Chaponnière, and sank breathless at the feet of M. Bernier.

"Save yourselves!" he cried; "save the general! my brother is a traitor !"

"I felt a presentiment that it was so," said the abbé. "General-gentlemen-rouse yourselves!" he exclaimed, in a voice of thunder; "arouse, for we are surprised!"

Stofflet, Lichteningen, and the other officers, sprang to their arms. "Where is the enemy? Where is the enemy?" repeated the general.

"The enemy is not here," replied Francis, in tears; "but he will not be long, for I am but a few minutes in advance. Fly." "Where shall we fly to?" cried all at once.

"Precautions have been already taken," replied the abbé, with admirable coolness, "taken whilst you were sleeping. Our honest host has prepared a place of concealment ; let us follow him."

They went forth under the guidance of the farmer, the abbé walking at their head, leaning on the arm of Francis, who wept and trembled. In about an hour they reached a cottage, where their host assured them they were safe from pursuit.

You have saved

Francis was plunged in mournful reverie, when Stofflet approached him. "Give me your hand," said he, "your brother is a coward, but you have courage enough for two. La Vendée and your family from the most horrible crime. I am proud to embrace you. Come, cheer up! But remember, if Andrew ever falls into my hands, whilst I am in power, his last hour is come. Traitors cannot be suffered to exist on the soil of La Vendée; and if by any chance he is taken, a musket ball at five paces will finish his account. I love the son of the Comte de Colbert, who has been my protector, my father: well, if it were possible that M. de Colbert could be placed in such a position as Andrew's, I would not pardon even him!"

"I will repeat all this to my brother," murmured poor Francis, sobbing. "I promise it to you, I swear it to you. Heaven must decide the rest."

'Gentlemen," continued Stofflet, turning to the rest, "here we are on the brink of danger; but M. de Charette, M. de Marigny, who were to join us this morning at La Chaponnière, will infallibly fall headlong over the precipice, from which we have escaped, through the especial goodness of God. They must be warned at all hazards; we must

"That is already cared for, general," replied the abbé, "they are in no danger. Our host's two sons set off to them with letters, which I wrote to them in your name, whilst Francis was gone in search of his brother. My fears were too strong for my patience, and it is happy that they were so.'

Capital, my dear abbé! If Lichteningen was not here, I should say you were the cleverest aide-de-camp that ever belonged to a general's staff."

Francis and the farmer now retraced their steps towards the farm-house; but when they reached La Chaponnière, not one stone was left upon another. A few hours had sufficed to destroy the house, to burn the barns, stacks, and granaries, and to slaughter and mutilate the cattle. A cry of horror burst from the poor farmer, who called aloud upon his children. No voice replied. A scornful laugh, which issued from a shed spared by the conflagration, was the only answer to his piteous lamentation; the farmer sprang towards the door, but ere he reached it, a shot laid him dead upon the ruins of his homestead.

At seven o'clock that morning, Francis was sitting by the fire, which his old mother was occupied in tending and exciting to a flame. His mind was agitated by the most dreadful thoughts: he had not spoken a word since his return; he had not even looked at his parents, and did not seem to hear the questions they reiterated, as to what had become of Andrew. A length, overcome

by their repeated solicitations, he rose, traversed the room with hasty steps, striking his forehead and tearing his hair; at length, with a convulsive effort, he approached his parents.

"Father," cried he, "this night a man of La Vendée, born in this village, under this roof, (but he is no more my brother, he never could have been your son,) this man has sold the life of Stofflet, has sold the life of M. Bernier, has betrayed Messieurs Charette and Marigny, who were on their way to La Chaponnière. That house is a mass of ruins and ashes, on which the blood of its master is yet fresh. I have seen all these crimes committed, and I know their author."

"And have you suffered him to live?" demanded his father. "He has not received his sentence. But M. Stofflet has told me that if the Comte de Maulevrier, his old master, whom he loves next to God and the king, should (but that is impossible) commit such a crime, he should die by his own hand. Father, in these words the general pronounced Andrew's sentence. To purify our name, hitherto without stain, although lowly, from this foul blot, I must take upon myself the execution of this judgment; and I have come here, before I shall quit this dwelling for ever, to give you and my mother my last salute, and to bid you an eternal adieu."

This dreadful announcement seemed to paralyse the hearers. A mournful silence succeeded, which was only interrupted by the sobbing of the poor mother.

"Wife," said the old Vendéan at length, in a firm voice, “this is no time for tears and sighs. God gave us two sons; one has been taken from us in a cruel manner; but let us bless His name, notwithstanding."

"But oh! unhappy man, what are you about to do?" cried she, in one of those transports of love, which nature explains so well. "What are we about to do? That which Abraham, at the command of God, would have done upon the mountain, where he made ready to sacrifice Isaac, who was innocent, and had not violated his faith, or been a traitor to his king; that which M. Stoffet would not hesitate to do, if Colbert had betrayed him. Wife, pray for the traitor, if you have courage to do it; for me, I will pray for strength to enable me to do my duty."

And all three fell on their knees.

At this moment the door opened, and Andrew entered with a smiling face, and joy sparkling in his eyes; but his step was unsteady, and his voice betrayed his debauchery and intoxication. "Mother," stammered he, sitting down on the table, and rapping on it with his fingers, "I am thirsty, give me some wine; you will have plenty of time to say your prayers by-and-bye." "We are praying for the dead," said Francis, especially for those slaughtered this morning at La Chaponnière.” These words brought Andrew to his senses; he dreaded lest his brother had conceived suspicions against him; and in a hurried voice he began a tale he had devised to account for his absence.

"Well," said his father, who, still on his knees beside the hearth, had listened to his son; "well, both night and day have been wearisome to all of us, we need repose, and to-morrow we shall see what is to be done."

Happy to have escaped so easily from the inquiries of his family, Andrew retired. His mother, then leaving the spot, where all this time she had bedewed with her tears the chaplet of beads which she rapidly passed through her trembling fingers, approached her husband.

"Perhaps," said she, in a supplicating voice, "Andrew is not so guilty as you suppose. He may have acted only indiscreetly."

"Mother," said Francis, "Andrew has sold his soul to the nation, and General Stofflet to the blues. I saw him acting as their guide, when they were marching to cut our throats. He has received the price of blood; drunkenness is in his brain, and wine sparkles in his eyes. What he has done once he may do again." "But your suspicions may be unfounded. Will you kill our child? Will you murder your brother?"

"Come with us," said the father, "Andrew is by this time asleep it may be that his pockets contain further proofs of his crime."

They all ascended the stairs in silent and mournful procession. Andrew slept, or seemed to sleep. The old man began his search, and soon twenty pieces of gold rolled upon the floor from his red girdle. The mother grew pale, and her heart grew sick, as if the gold was for her a sufficient proof of guilt. The father, suppressing his emotion, continued his examination, but when he drew a letter from the pocket of the under waistcoat, Andrew, his forehead covered with cold drops of perspiration, threw himself at his

father's feet. "Father," cried he, my father, in the name of Heaven, do not read that letter; it is a death-warrant." "For whom?" said Francis, making his musket ring upon the floor; " is it for La Vendée or for spies? Answer, for the hour of judgment is about to strike." But Andrew answered not.

"Andrew," continued Francis, "we can learn nothing from this paper, we cannot read; but answer me. Who betrayed the secret of Stofflet to the blues? Who trafficked for his head? Who led the soldiers to the slaughter at La Chaponnière ?” Andrew was silent.

"What is this gold which lies at our feet, not one half of which we could gain by the honest labour of a whole year? Who has polluted this house? What is the recompense of infamy?" Andrew uttered not a word.

After some minutes of mournful silence, the mother, obeying the signal of her husband, covering her face with her apron, slowly quitted this place of horror. When she had reached the bottom of the stairs, the old man advanced towards his son, whose clasped hands trembled, and whose haggard eyes dared not to look upon his father or his brother.

"There have never been either traitors or spies in our family, and such there shall not be whilst I live. Andrew, collect yourself, confess your sins, and pray to God for that pardon which your father can never give you on earth; pray as we three prayed for the guilty, when Providence conducted you to the house; pray! for when you have performed that act of penitence, I shall have only

one son."

Then with the majestic sorrow of a judge, who in the name of society has condemned a criminal to death, the old man remained with folded arms and steady countenance, betraying no traces of emotion.

Francis, with his musket still in his hand, now approached Andrew, whose livid face was marked by terror and remorse. "Brother," said he, "recommend your soul to God, repent of your great crime, and since you cannot live an honest man, at least die like a Christian."

"I will die so, my father, if Heaven grant me grace," replied Andrew, whose teeth chattered together; "I am guilty towards you, whose name I have disgraced; towards La Vendée, whose trust I have betrayed. I am still more guilty than you think me, but grant me no favour; for I feel that I am still weak, and that for gold or wicked pleasures I should barter my soul." "Back, Francis!" said the father; "leave him the few minutes he has to live, to make his peace with God." "It is made, my father," said the criminal, rising, with a face full of serenity; 46 I deserve death, I am ready to receive it at your hands." That moment a terrible report resounded through the house. "He died a brave man and a Christian!" cried the old man. "Francis, let us go down and comfort your mother."

It was unnecessary. At the bottom of the stairs they found a corpse; the stroke of grief had rendered them a widower and an orphan.

Forty-eight hours had elapsed since that terrible night. Stofflet was in his tent, preparing with his staff the plan of the battle about to take place the next day, when the Baron de Lichteningen introduced two peasants. The younger threw himself at the feet of the general.

The

"Monsieur Stofflet," he said, in an agitated voice, "my father and myself have put to death the man who betrayed you at La Chaponnière; he has experienced the same fate as you declared yourself ready to inflict on your best friend in such a case. wretched man was to us even something more, for this is his father, and his brother is at your feet. Together with some pieces of gold, the fruit of his perfidy, we found this paper; I have brought it to you, Monsieur Stofflet; the only favour left us to request after such a deed, is to be placed to-morrow in the foremost rank, and to die on the field of battle."

"To-morrow, then," said the general, who covered his eyes with his large hand to conceal the tears which flowed from them"to-morrow;" and the father and son left the tent with less of gloom than they had entered it.

"Let M. le Abbé Bernier be called immediately," said Stofflet. After glancing over the letter which had been placed in his hands-"Gentlemen," he said, "these men who were here just now have saved the army, whose safety would have been endangered if this letter had reached its destination. I am, therefore, bound to pardon their savage virtue, as I trust God will pardon

them. We shall find them in the thick of the battle to-morrow, for they are not men to survive their first field."

As they had hoped, and the general had foretold, so it happened, and the next day both lay dead side by side on the field of battle, pierced through and through with innumerable wounds.

DEVELOPMENT OF THE RUSSIAN PRESS.

A CORRESPONDENT of the "Journal des Débats," who states that he is well acquainted with Russia, gives an account of the character of the Press in that empire, and an enumeration of the various Periodicals published. The following is an abridgment of his account :

"During a long time all the literary exertions of the Russian empire were concentrated in St. Petersburgh and Moscow. The provinces contented themselves with reading the productions of those two capitals, but without producing anything themselves. The foundation of universities, academies, and different establishments for public instruction, added to the natural development of civilisation, has, within the last two years, changed vastly this order of things.

"In the year 1838, upwards of 100 papers and periodical publications were published in the Russian, French, Polish, and German languages, and even in that commonly spoken in the provinces bordering on the Baltic. The principal centres whence these publications emanate are, St. Petersburgh, Moscow, Kieff, Kasan, Dorpat, Jaroslaw, Odessa, Wilna, Archangel, Witepsk, Wladimir, Velogda, Jitomir, Woronesk, Viatka, Grodno, Ekaterinoslav, Kaluga, Rastroma, Minsk, Mittau, Novogorod, &c. These towns, consequently, are considered as the centres of the intellectual movement in Russia.

"This development of the periodical press is entirely owing to the Government, without whose protection, or at least permission, nothing can prosper in the empire. It may, therefore, be easily imagined that the character of this press is essentially different from that of most part of the daily newspapers of other countries, and approaches nearer to that of the official journals and literary or scientific publications of France. It is very rare to find in the Russian papers any political discussion. They oftener content themselves with the simple relation of facts. But it must not be thought that the Russians remain in invincible ignorance of political discussions, because their own journals are not in the habit of informing them on such matters. The knowledge of foreign languages, so common among the Russians, renders the perusal of the French and German papers as easy to them as their "Each Ministry has its journal, destined to keep the public acquainted with everything relative to its peculiar department of the government. The price of subscription never exceeds thirty francs, and is often only fifteen francs (12s. 6d., British) per annum, the government contenting itself merely with the return of the mere expense of the publication. Every one can easily procure the paper most interesting to him. The following are the names which I shall content myself with citing :-The Journal of the Ministry of Instruction, the Journal of the Ministry of the Interior, the Military Journal, the Journal of Manufactures, Mining Journal, Engineering Memoirs, Journal of Military Surgeons, Journal of Ways of Communication (bridges and roads), Journal of Forests, Commercial Gazette, Agricultural Gazette,

own.

and Gazette of the Senate.

"The most interesting of all these papers is that of the 'Ministry of Instruction;' it appears every month, and contains documents relative to the progress and to the direction of the public instruction of the country. It publishes, besides the official acts, articles, original or translated, upon scientific or literary subjects, as well as details of the learned associations and establishments of education, (public and private,) both in Russia and abroad. There are also critiques upon new works, Russian or European, worthy of attention; notices of travels and discoveries; in short, everything interesting to the learned world. The university professors are the principal contributors to it; but a great number of foreign correspondents supply it with intelligence concerning the rest of Europe. This journal, to which I am not afraid of awarding too much honour by placing it at the head of all others, has several thousand subscribers.

which appears every day, and which treats especially of things concerning the army. The Literary Supplement to the Russian Invalid' is a literary publication, exclusively devoted to the criticism of plays and works in general.

"The most widely circulated daily paper in Russia, is the 'Northern Bee,' conducted by Messrs. Gretsch and Bulgarine; the former has acquired some celebrity in Russia for his Russian grammar, and the latter by his romances, some of which have been translated into French.

"The Northern Bee' was the first daily paper published in Russia. Until its appearance the want of such prompt publication was not felt. This paper is nearly what we understand in France by a daily paper. It gives political and literary news, foreign and domestic, analyses of new works, &c. "The 'C

'Contemporary,' founded by the poet Pouschkine, is a sort of review, appearing quarterly, and often contains remarkable articles on the history of Russian literature. The Son of the Country,' edited for the last twenty-five years by M. Gretsch, is a monthly review, in which are to be found pieces in prose and verse of the best known authors, articles translated or extracted from the principal reviews of England and France, literary and political critiques, and a very well written historical summary.

"The Literary Library,' edited on the same plan by M. Senkowsky, a distinguished oriental linguist, has probably the most extensive circulation of all the Russian publications, and is peculiarly remarkable for the witty composition of its literary bulletin. "The Gazette of the Arts,' edited by M. Koucolnik, the author of several esteemed tragedies, appears forty-eight times a-year, with 100 engravings, executed by French and German artists. "The Children's Journal,' commenced by M. Bachoutsky, appears monthly, and publishes beautiful vignettes, designs, and pieces of music. M. Bachoutsky is also the editor of the Journal of Useful Knowledge,' published on the plan of the French work of that name.

"The Friend of Health,' a medical journal, treats of all questions connected with medical science, and regularly acquaints its readers with their progress in England, France, Germany, and Italy.

"The oldest journal published in Moscow is the 'Muscovite Observer.' The plan of the Revue des Deux Mondes' of Paris will give you an idea of that on which this journal is conducted; it appears monthly. The Moscow Gazette' comes out twice a-week, and contains a summary of the events published in other papers. It has great circulation, and 9,000 subscribers. The monopoly of advertisements which it enjoys imparts to it a peculiar degree of interest. The receipts from advertisements alone amount to between 300,000 and 400,000 roubles per annum, and are applied to the support of the Moscow University. Agriculture being a much more important matter in the provinces adjoining that city than in the vicinity of St. Petersburgh, the publications relative to agricultural sciences have their principal seat in Moscow, where no fewer than four publications of the kind appear regularly, accompanied with plates. These are, the Agricultural Journal,' the Russian Farmer,' the Horticulturists' Journal,' and the Shepherds' Journal.'

"The cities of Odessa, Wilna, and Teflis, have each a journal, which derive their principal interest from their geographical position. Thus the Odessa Courier' anticipates all the other journals in its intelligence from Constantinople, the Black Sea, and Asia in general. The Transcaucasian Courier' publishes the best information from Caucasus, and most valuable information respecting the provinces of that region of the empire, which are so interesting, and have hitherto been so little known.

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'Finally, the professors of the University of Kasan also publish a journal. This University, placed as an intermediate station between Europe and Asia, and intended, as it were, to form a link between both continents, is the establishment most specially adapted to the study of Oriental sciences in the whole empire. Its character, reflected in the journal it publishes, is on that account highly valuable for those who are, or desire to be, occupied with Eastern matters.

"All the journals mentioned are in the Russian language. "There are, besides, as I have already stated, several published in French;-namely, in St. Petersburgh, the Political and Literary Journal,' appearing three times a-week; the Scientific Bulletin of the Academy of Sciences;' the Journal of the Ways of Communication; the Foreign Review;' in Moscow, the Scientific Bulletin of the Society of Natural History;' and at Odessa, the Odessa Journal,' and the Bulletin of Rural Economy.'