hed in this country, among which we may mention Christison's
Dispensatory, Taylor's Medical Jurisprudence, Ryan's Medical
Jurisprudence, Ballard and Garrod's Materia Medica.

* * * * *

F. MANSELL REYNOLDS, the eldest son of the late F. Reynolds, the
dramatic author, died recently at Fontainebleau. He was long intimate
with and favorably known to literary circles in England, counting such
men as Wordsworth, Coleridge, Bernal, Lockhart, Hook, and many others,
among his personal friends. As the editor of "Heath's Keepsake,"
when it started, he proved himself a person of taste and ability. He
was also the author of "Miserrimus," which excited a considerable
sensation when published, and of one or two other works of fiction,
which, together with his contributions to several serials, displayed
much variety of talent.

* * * * *

JOHN ROBY, author of "Traditions of Lancashire," and other works,
which have been as popular as any of their class, is mentioned as one
of the persons lost in the "Orion" steamer. Mr. Roby was long a banker
in Rochdale, and partner of Mr. Fielden, and though an excellent man
of business, his mind was deeply interested in literary pursuits and
in cultivating the friendly intercourse of literary men.

* * * * *

Prof. CANSTATT, of the University of Erlangen, died on the 10th of
March, after a long and painful illness. Dr. C. was one of the most
distinguished physicians of our times, and had won for himself a
lasting reputation by his work on the diseases of old age.

* * * * *

ORIGINAL POETRY

* * * * *

The following graphic picture of domestic happiness in humble
life, was written by Townsend Haines, Esq., late Secretary of the
Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, and now Register of the Treasury, at
Washington. Mr. Haines is an eloquent and accomplished lawyer, with
fine capacities for literature, to which it may be regretted that he
has recently given so little attention.

BOB FLETCHER

I once knew a plowman, Bob Fletcher his name,
Who was old and was ugly, and so was his dame;
Yet they lived quite contented, and free from all strife,
Bob Fletcher the plowman, and Judy his wife.

As the morn streaked the east, and the night fled away
They would rise up for labor, refreshed for the day,
And the song of the lark, a