And loins, rich offering! thereby guided them And signs from flame derived, uncertain once, Laid open Can claim this honour, save in boastings vain. Their every art from Wisdom. Be not thus over-careful, of thyself Neglectful, though by wretchedness oppressed. PROMETH. Not such the will of fate, not yet th' event By many a pain, and many a woe, be bowed, Ere liberty be mine; for what is art Against necessity's decree? Directs the rudder of necessity? PROMETH. The triple Fates, and the avenging Furies. CHORUS. IS, then, the might of Jove to them subjected? PROMETH. E'en he cannot escape his fated lot. CHORUS. What lot for him, but everlasting rule? PROMETH. That may not be revealed; press not the question. CHORUS. Sure 'tis some weighty secret thou thus hidest. PROMETH. Quit, then, the subject; 'tis not yet the time To speak it; but in closest secrecy, It still must be involved; for this concealing, I hope these woes and torments to escape. (To be continued.) LITERARY NOTICES. MAY is here-the blooming maiden that strews flowers before Summer's royal feet, and spreads the verdant carpet on her queenly path: sunshine glitters in her golden hair, and paints the garland on her brow; she smiles! and man, rejoicing, turns from the deserted hearth of winter to follow in her train. In the footsteps of May, spring up fresh flowers in their beauty; we love them best, for they are the first to greet us when we exult over the banishment of Winter. We love the flowers,-their forms, their colours, and their fragrant scents; but when we know how gloriously these little gems are made, then rise our hearts in adoration of Him who clothed the lilies of the field, so that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. None who have leisure should let summer pass and fail to improve the opportunity that flowers offer of gazing at the unmasked form of beauteous Nature, and adding one more triumphant testimony to those each day has already afforded of the bounteous goodness of his God. At the commencement of the Spring, we trust, therefore, that a few notices of works tending to this object will not be considered labour thrown away. De Candolle's Vegetable Organography. Translated by Boughton Kingdon. Second Edition, in 2 Vols. 8vo. Houlston & Hughes. Possessed of an interest to the lover of nature far superior to the details of artificial system, or catalogues of classification, are those departments of botany which lead us through the ways of Providence, and point out with what surpassing wisdom the living plant is made: its structure, and the laws by which its life is governed, form the most profitable and entertaining departments of our study; and it is to these that this work is devoted. An eulogy on De Candolle as a botanist would be something like an expression of approbation upon Shakspeare as a poet: he stands the acknowledged chief among his brethren; and throughout Europe the opinions of the great French botanist are looked up to with admiration and respect. Of the present translation, however, it may be worth while to speak: we are proud that from our own College has arisen one who has presented to the British public this work of standard authority, in a manner most worthy of encouragement. Mr. Kingdon we know to be an experienced botanist, and this translation has been a labour of love. It is a faithful version. Le Jardin des Plantes. 8vo. Paris: L. Curmer. London: Clarke, Finch-lane. Pp. 440. In this age of cheap illustrated works, we must unhesitatingly award the palm of victory to the one before us. It is "gotten up" in the first style of elegance; the typography is beautiful; and the wood-engravings, of which there are about 400, are exquisite specimens of an art which here appears to have reached perfection. There is also a large number of engravings on steel, and a pretty collection of coloured plates of birds, flowers, &c. The letter-press (French) not merely gives an account of the Jardin des Plantes at Paris, but consists also of a complete introduction to the various branches of Natural History—Zoology, Ornithology, Botany, Mineralogy, Geology, &c. and all this is conveyed in the amusing and piquant style so peculiar to our French neighbours. The work has another recommendation—it is not only one of the most beautiful, but, unquestionably, the cheapest book ever published. Floricultural Magazine. Tyas. No. 71, April, 1842. This periodical has gone on gradually improving; and since it began to take the lead, it has left all its monthly gardening rivals still more and more in the rear. The coloured plates of the most beautiful modern flowers are executed in a style of excellence not hitherto met in these sixpenny works. The Letterpress is as practically useful as the plates are beautiful; we can confidently recommend every one who has a garden, whether it be large or small, to take it in. Florist's Journal. April, 1842. How and Parsons. This is another number of the numerous family of gardening periodicals. Its coloured plates were once highly finished, but latterly we fear that they have degenerated. The drawing of Oncidium papilio ought not to have been made from a faded withering specimen; and as for Dahlias, they are all so much alike, except in colour, at least upon paper, that sketches of these great flowers are not much to our taste. We would also advise the Editor to make his remarks more practical and rather less theoretical. Nevertheless, the work is by no means a bad one. British Moths and their Transformations. No. VI. 4to. Smith, Fleet Street. This very beautiful number contains three plates, in which are delineated, in the most accurate and artistical manner, about eighty sketches of Moths, Larvæ, Pupa, and plants. As most young ladies are more or less entomologically inclined, we know of no work more calculated for a present to them than the one now before us. Ornamental Perennials. By Mrs. Loudon. 4to. Smith, Fleet Street. Each Part consists of three plates, containing several highly-coloured figures of ornamental plants, with illustrative letter-press. The work is in every respect worthy of recommendation. The Botanist. Manns, Bromsgrove. Groombridge, Panyer Alley. A work designed for the use of amateur gardeners, and completely answering the purpose for which it is intended. Each number contains four very excellent coloured plates, of the newest and ornamental varieties of flowers, exotic cr hardy. The descriptions attached to each are as well popular as scientific, and generally wind up with a moral. To those whose botany extends chiefly to the adornment of their own green-houses and gardens, this work will be a profitable aid. Miscellaneous Notices are necessarily deferred THE KING'S COLLEGE MAGAZINE. JUNE, 1842. ELLERTON CASTLE; A Romance. BY "FITZROY PIKE." wwww CHAPTER THE THIRTIETH. WILLIE BATS INDULGES IN AN IDEA, AND FINDS IT TO BE A VERY BAD ONETHE CONSEQUENCES THEREOF.—THE HISTORY OF FATHER FRANCIS. WILLIE BATS claims our attention. That worthy has acted upon schemes important in their result, however inefficient in their execution; we hasten, therefore, back to Ellerton, recurring to the period when last we quitted it. Willie Bats walks with Spenton in the fields;-how comes he by him for an associate? and Willie seems intimate with his companion! The cause of this?—Ambition. Willie Bats aspired;-to astonish the world by discovering a treasure, he knew not what, therefore he raked nightly among the bowels of the earth;-to delight those he loved by discovering a secret, he knew not what, therefore he walked with Spenton. It was no fault of Willie's if his heart was developed at the expense of his brain; true, if his heart was warm, his brain was glowing--ay, on fire with an idea; but then the stock of fuel was but small, and that idea was not particularly brilliant. He had heard of the good service done by Mat Maybird in professing friendship with the foe: he, too, would follow in the profitable path, and scrape acquaintanceship with Spenton. Poor Willie! His thoughts, few and simple as they were, had never yet been denied access to his tongue, and now that he strove to put them in restraint they summarily rebelled, and refused to succumb to the interdiction. "And so," said Spenton, in continuance of their conversation, "thou wilt help me to win Kate Westrill?" "I betray Mistress Kate!" exclaimed Willie indignantly; then, recollecting himself, "Yes, certainly.” Spenton smiled. Willie thought he had exhibited excessive caution; and proceeded to pump with unexampled vigour : "Where's Curts?" "In London." Willie was delighted at the mark of confidence expressed in this prompt reply. He knew that Curts really was on the road to London; in fact, had told Spenton of the knowledge he possessed. "What takes him to London ?" "He did not tell me." "Canst not guess?" inquired Willie, who was determined to gain all he could by a rigorous cross-examination; but a simple negative stopped him in mid career. "Where is Kate Westrill?" asked Spenton in return. Willie was taken aback by the sudden demand upon his inventive powers. "I-I-she-yes; in London," replied he. "In London! When went she thither? eh, Willie?" "Oh," cried Willie,-"ay,"-taking time to reflect," yes.What saidst thou?" "When went Mistress Westrill to London, if there she be ?" "When went she, didst thou ask, or why went she?-Why went she?" "Both. When and why." Suddenly Willie remembered Spenton's answer, and used it in default of a better: "She did not tell me," exclaimed he eagerly: "that's it! she did not tell me!" Spenton grinned from one grizzly whisker to the other. "Hast then nothing to betray !" "I" cried Willie; "I play false to poor-Oh, no; nothing at present." "Adieu, then, Willie! When thou visit'st the good priest next, after Cicely hath kissed thee, give my love to Kate!" Willie here might have averted suspicion; but the sly, and somewhat public, allusion to his Cicely's kisses completed his confusion. "I never told thee-" "Thou hast told me now. I see it all-I understand thee well. Learn thy part, Willie, ere thou actest hypocrite again !" Thus speaking and chuckling as he went, the satisfied Spenton left the crest-fallen experimentalist. Poor Willie fetched a groan from some corner of his frame, if corner that round body could |