does not lead us back to the dead faith and traditions of the past, save to urge us onward in the pathway of—­in the pathway—­in short, to urge us on more or less.  To those envious minds who affect to regard BROWN as a mere amateur, an undertaker of more than he has the ability to execute, we would deign but one reply, and that would be, “Look at his trees in the picture called the ‘Ruins of the Mill,’ and then cower back into your native insignificance.”

[Illustration:  RUINS OF A MILL.]

There are many other pictures which we would like to notice in this article, but want of space will forbid us to do so this week.  We have merely room to mention, with warm approbation, the exceedingly dramatic little genre picture entitled “Shoo-fly,” by the veteran Minstrel, Mr. DANIEL BRYANT, whose recent translation of HOMER has given him so high a rank among the best German scholars of the day.

[Illustration:  SHOE FLY!]

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RULES AND MAXIMS.

How they change!  ESCULAPIUS now gives to us and our children, as medicine, what he denounced to the last generation as “pizen.”  The heresy of yesterday is the orthodoxy of to-day.

Thus the philosophy of those who are under the turf is refuted by those who are on the turf.  It used to be said in regard to horses:—­

     “One white foot, buy him,
     “Two white feet, try him,
     “Three white feet, deny him,
     “Four white feet and a white nose,
     “Take off his shoes and give him to the crows.”

But the advent of DEXTER has changed the sinister rhyme to:—­

    One white foot, spy him,
    Two white feet, try him,
    Three white feet, buy him,
    Four white feet and a white nose,
    And a mile in 2-17 he goes.

* * * * *

RIGHT TO THE SPOT.

Additional spots on the disk of the sun are reported.  An ingenious writer, who candidly states that he is not an astronomer, accounts for them by suggesting that they are caused by stray shots from the Prussian sharpshooters who tried to bring down GAMBETTA’S balloon.

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A QUERY FOR STEEPLE-CHASERS.

We hear a great deal about “featherweights” in connection with racing.  If there are such things as feather weights, why on earth don’t the managers of Jerome Park races stuff the steeple-chase jockeys with them, to prevent them from being injured by such accidents as happened there on the opening day of the Autumn meeting?

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POEMS OF THE CRADLE.

CANTO VIII.

    JACK SPRAT could eat no fat,
    His wife could eat no lean;
    And so between them both,
    They licked the platter clean.

JACK SPRAT was a near neighbor to the Poet.  He was a remarkably delicate man, cadaverous and thin.  A dyspeptic, always ailing, he was a subject of pity for his friends, and of wonder to his acquaintances.  But behold the eternal fitness of things.  Providence blessed him with a wife, his opposite in every respect.  When extremes meet, a perfect whole is the result; and in this case it was a perfect marriage, fit to be sung by poets and embalmed in verse.