it yields a second
crop of pleasurable associations: and the brief retrospect of six
months breaks up the _tedium_ which may at some time or other be
attached to literary pursuits. We collect the six-and-twenty sheets
into a volume, and turn over their leaves until they almost become
new acquaintance: some of their columns point to current events, and
thus by a little aid of memory, make an outline chronology of the
half-year; and, above all, if we have pleased the reader, we, at the
same time, enjoy the self-satisfaction of having been employed to so
gratifying an end. We like too the spirit of acquaintanceship which
these prefacings, meetings, and greetings tend to keep up, although
there may be persons who impatiently turn over a preface as the
majority of an audience at the theatre rise to leave as soon as the
last scene of a pantomime is shown.

* * * * *

The contributions of Correspondents abound in this volume. Their
subjects belong to that class of inquiry which is useful and
entertaining, and their research is amusing without dry-as-dust
antiquarianism: this is a serviceable feature, inasmuch as it is
conversational; and we know "what is said upon a subject is to
be gathered from a hundred people." So it is with not a few of
these communications: separately, their value may be small; but,
collectively, they remind us of Dr. Johnson's quaint illustration of
the many ingredients of human felicity: "Pound St. Paul's Church,
into atoms, and consider any single atom; it is, to be sure, good for
nothing: but put all these together, and you have St. Paul's Church."
A single article may occasionally appear trifling; but, take the
sheet, and its bearing is obvious; and in the volume still more so.
Our Correspondents only enjoy the reward of seeing their papers in
print: _esto perpetua_ is the only charm we use; and our poetical
friends would gladly accept the _perpetua_ for the

Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles

of the heroines of their verse.

SEVENTEEN is a promising time in life: it is redolent of youth, and
hope, and joy; may not the context hold good in art and literature.
Strictly speaking, we are but in our ninth year, although our volumes
number seventeen. If we continue to partake as largely of the gale of
public favour as hitherto, we shall not despair of an evergreen old
age. We know the value of this favour, and shall strive to maintain it
accordingly. It is to u