Notes On Literature, Science, And Art.

And youth a thing of yesterday appears When far behind us we have left our prime . But youth of soul some carry to the end—And this , in you , we honour and admire ; May it be hers who claims to call you friend , And in her ashes ' live their wonted fire !'

Like you , not all absorbed iu byegone days , This changing world can interest me still ; Still , merit wins my love , and claims my praise , I still can trust the good outweighs the ill .

But not of me but you I now would speak ; Of whom but you—on this sweet tenth of May ? To-morrow this will reach you—warm though weak , My heart ' s best wishes greet your natal day !

Lady ! the hapjiy-omen'd name you bear-Holds in itself a talisman of sound ;* A name whose owner ne ' er should know a care , But all things pleasant evermore surround ! May it still be so ! and your onward way

Be smooth and jileasant in the coming year . May calm repose succeed each cheerful day—The frame as vigorous , and the mind as clear !

And many a wish , no doubt , with mine will blend—And many a greeting hail you , as before ; But none more warm than hers these lines who penn'd—None more sincere than those of ETA MAWR . "

Eta Mawr is emphatically the laureate of the aged , although her verses in the decline of life have all the freshness of Spring on the banks of her native Tees ; for four-andtwenty years ago she published a ballad in Bentley's Miscellany , on an old woman named Mary Benton , whom she had visited

at the age of one hundred and twenty years , and found then jiossessiug a sound mind in a sound body ! The ballad has siuce been reprinted , by the writer ' s permission , as one of the penny North of England Tractates . Eta Mawr has had many personal friends and correspondents -whose

Notes On Literature, Science, And Art.

names will live long after their bodies are dust—poets , philosophers , artists , and suchlike ; but surely "The Old , Old Woman of Elton , " and Lady Smith , are equally remarkable for their longevity . iRose Cottage , Siokesley .

Hymn.

HYMN .

Written for ilie Opening of the International Exhibition , Philadelphia , May 10 , 1876 . BY JOHN G . WHITTIEE , in June Atlantic . OUR fathers' God from out whose hand

The centuries fall like grains of sand , We meet to-day , united , free , And loyal to our land and Thee , To thank Thee for the era done , And trust Thee for the opening one .

Here , where of old , by Thy design , The fathers spake that word of Thine Whose echo is the glad refrain Of rended bolt and falling chain , To grace our festal time , from all The zones of earth our guests we call

Be with us while the New World greets The Old World thronging all its streets , Unveiling all the triumphs won By art or toil beneath the sun - . And unto common good ordain This rivalship of hand and brain .

Thou , who hast here in concord furled The war flags of a gathered world , Beneath our Western skies fulfill The Orient ' s mission of good-will , And , frei ghted with love ' s Golden Fleece , Send back its Argonauts of peace . For art and labour met in truce ,

For beauty made the bride of use , We thank Thee ; but withal , we crave The austere virtues strong to save , The honour proof to place or gold , The manhood never bought nor sold !

Oh , make Thou us , through centuries long , In peace secure , in justice strong ; Around our gift of freedom draw The safeguards of Thy righteous law ; And , cast , in some diviner mold , Let the new cycle shame the old !