Among the fine old localities of London is the neighbourhood of the church of St. Saviour, Southwark; this is one of the noblest and largest churches in London, and when the new London Bridge is finished, might be made a noble object from the approach on the Borough side.  It is a positive disgrace if it be suffered to remain in its present dilapidated state by the parishioners.  The massy spaciousness of the structure, and the solidity of its walls, strike the stranger who first beholds it with admiration.  In this church lies old Gower the poet, and there are several very curious relics of the olden time scattered about within its walls.  Its date is believed to be anterior to London Bridge.  All the ground along the river near it towards Blackfriars’ Bridge is filled with remains celebrated in the annals of the church, and what is singular, also of the theatre.—­New Monthly Magazine.

* * * * *

HUMAN LIFE.

  Human life is like a river—­
  Its brightness lasts not on for ever—­
  That dances from its native braes,
  As pure as maidhood’s early days;
  But soon, with dark and sullen motion,
  It rolls into its funeral ocean,
  And those whose currents are the slightest,
  And shortest run, are aye the brightest: 
  So is our life—­its latest wave
  Rolls dark and solemn to the grave.

Ettrick Shepherd.

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SHUMLA.

The following description of Shumla, by an experienced officer, will at this moment, be particularly interesting:—­

“What is properly called the town of Shumla, is nearly surrounded by a rampart of Mount Haemus, or the Balkan, which descends on both sides in the form of a horse-shoe.  The steep slopes of this great fence are covered with detached rocks and close thorny bushes.  The nature of the ground makes it a most advantageous position for the Turkish soldier, who when sheltered by these inequalities, rapid steeps and a few intrenchments, displays all the address of the most skilful marksman.  Like some orators, who cannot express themselves unless when partly concealed by a table or tribunal, the Turk cannot use his musket unless he can rest it on a stone or against the trunk of a tree, but then his aim is infallible.

“The town is about a league in length, with half that breadth, and may contain from thirty to thirty-five thousand souls.  The fortifications are of barbarian architecture; a ditch, with a simple rampart, partly of earth, partly of brick, flanked here and there with little towers, which serve neither for support nor resistance, and which contain not above seven or eight fusileers.  But it is not the town itself which is to be considered, but the vast intrenched field in the centre of which it is placed, and which is capable of containing an immense army, with its magazines, its utensils and equipage, without the enemy having the power to throw a single shell into the place, or disturb it by any manoeuvre whatever.