as quiet, modest, well-behaved, moral street as need be—a detestable reputation; people have shunned it as if it were a cavern of cutthroats—those condemned to live in it have felt themselves quasi-infamous—its rents have fallen, its shops stood empty, its business has dwindled away. The owners of its houses, and its few remaining inhabitants and shopkeepers, have for months past been pestering the municipality of Paris to devise means of restoring its fallen prosperity, and removing the monstrous stigma attached to it. At last, moved by compassion, the municipality has given permission to have the name changed to "Avenue de Montaigne." The ex-Allée, says the writer who informs us of the circumstance, is in great jubilation, and is crying with enthusiasm "Je suis sauvee!"
"NAMES HIGH INSCRIBED."—It is stated that the names of nearly every distinguished man in every department of literature and science, from the remotest antiquity down to the present time, are inscribed in letters of gold on the outside of the new Bibliotheque de Sainte Geneviève, which is now rapidly approaching completion. The list is naturally one of tremendous length, and covers not less than three whole sides of the vast building. It is impossible not to admire the spirit in which it has been devised, and the impartiality with which it has been executed. Altogether, it does the highest credit to the Parisians, and especially to their municipal authorities. The names are arranged in chronological order, but without date, and without regard to the nationality of, or to the peculiar distinction achieved by the individual; thus the two last names are those of Berzelius, the Swedish savant, and Chateaubriand; and a little above them figures Walter Scott, Byron, and other English immortals. Living celebrities are of course excluded.
MR. HARTLEY, a benevolent English gentleman, directed in his will that £200 should be set apart as a prize for the best essay on Emigration, and appointed the American Minister trustee of the fund. The Vice Chancellor has decided that the bequest is void, for the reason that such an essay would encourage people to emigrate to the United States, and so to throw off their allegiance to the Queen! Another decision equally wise was made at the same time in regard to a prize for a treatise on Natural Theology. The learned Vice Chancellor regarded it as calculated to "subvert the Church."
Recent Deaths
ROBERT EGLESFELD GRIFFITH, M.D., died in Philadelphia, on the 27th ult., in the fifty-third year of his age. Dr. Griffith possessed fine talents; in addition to a thorough knowledge of his profession, he was familiar with most of the branches of natural science, while in botany and conchology he stood second to few in this country; and his social and moral qualities were of the highest order. He filled in succession the chairs of Materia Medica and Pharmacy in the Philadelphia College of Pharmacy; of Materia Medica, Therapeutics, Hygiene, and Medical Jurisprudence in the University of Virginia. Whilst laboring in the latter station his health failed him, and he was induced to seek a winters residence in the West Indies in hopes of its restoration. It became evident, however, that his health was permanently broken, and for the last four years he has resided in his native city, Though suffering much, his energy and industry never flagged: and he has given the results of his labors in his Medical Botany and his Universal Formulary, two works which will secure him a permanent reputation. He also enriched by his annotations a number of works republished 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.
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, as it rose on the gale,
Found Bob at the plow, and his wife at the pail.
A neat little cottage in front of a grove,
Where in youth they first gave their young hearts up to love,
Was the solace of age, and to them doubly dear,
As it called up the past, with a smile or a tear.
Each tree had its thought, and the vow could impart,
That mingled in youth, the warm wish of the heart:
The thorn was still there, and the blossoms it bore,
And the song from its top seemed the same as before.
When the curtain of night over nature was spread,
And Bob had returned from the plow to his shed,
Like the dove on her nest, he reposed from all care,
If his wife and his youngsters contented were there.
I have passed by his door when the evening was gray,
And the hill and the landscape were fading away,
And have heard from the cottage, with grateful surprise,
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