le XLIII.-The Council of Horses

Fable XLIV.--The Hound and the Huntsman

Fable XLV.--The Poet and the Rose

Fable XLVI.--The Cur, the Horse, and the Shepherd's Dog

Fable XLVII.--The Court of Death

Fable XLVIII.--The Gardener and the Hog

Fable XLIX.--The Man and the Flea

Fable L.--The Hare and many Friends

PART II.

Fable I.--The Dog and the Fox

Fable II.--The Vulture, the Sparrow, and other Birds

Fable III.--The Baboon and the Poultry

Fable IV.--The Ant in Office

Fable V.--The Bear in a Boat

Fable VI.--The Squire and his Cur

Fable VII.--The Countryman and Jupiter

Fable VIII.--The Man, the Cat, the Dog, and the Fly

Fable IX.--The Jackall, Leopard, and other Beasts

Fable X.--The Degenerate Bees

Fable XI.--The Pack-horse and the Carrier

Fable XII.--Pan and Fortune

Fable XIII.-Plutus, Cupid, and Time

Fable XIV.--The Owl, the Swan, the Cock, the Spider, the Ass,
and the Farmer

Fable XV.--The Cook-maid, the Turnspit, and the Ox

Fable XVI.--The Ravens, the Sexton, and the Earth-worm

SONGS:--

Sweet William's Farewell to Black-eyed Susan

A Ballad, from the What-d'ye-call-it

SOMERVILLE'S CHASE.

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM SOMERVILLE

SOMERVILLE'S CHASE:--

Book I.

Book II.

Book III.

Book IV.

LIFE OF JOSEPH ADDISON.

Joseph Addison, the _Spectator_, the true founder of our periodical
literature, the finest, if not the greatest writer in the English
language, was born at Milston, Wiltshire, on the 1st of May 1672. A
fanciful mind might trace a correspondence between the particular months
when celebrated men have been born and the peculiar complexion of their
genius. Milton, the austere and awful, was born in the silent and gloomy
month of December. Shakspeare, the most versatile of all writers, was
born in April, that month of changeful skies, of sudden sunshine, and
sudden showers. Burns and Byron, those stormy spirits, both appeared in
the fierce January; and of the former, he himself says,

"'Twas then a blast o' Januar-win'
Blew welcome in on Robin."

Scott, the broad sunny being, visited us in August, and in the same month
the warm genius of Shelley came, as Hunt used to tell him, "from the
planet Mercury" to our earth. Coleridge and Keats, with whose song a deep
bar of sorrow was to mingle, like the music of falling leaves, or of
winds wailing for the departure of