INFLUENCE OF LITERATURE UPON LIFE.

The fable of the "living tree, Igdrasil, with the melodious, prophetic wavings of its world-wide boughs, deep-rooted as Hela," has died out; but in its place we have the accomplished fact of the Printing Press, with wider influence than fable ever foreshadowed, with power more potent than Pagan philosophy ever dreamed of.

Much as is accorded to the press, men do not yet fully appreciate the controlling influence which Literature has upon Life.

Burke appreciated it when he said there were three estates in Parliament, but in the reporters' gallery there sat a fourth estate more important far than they all.

"Literature will take

Mr. Southey understood it. care of itself," said Mr. Pitt, when applied to for some help for Burns. "Yes," added Mr. Southey, "it will take care of itself, and of you, too, if you do not look to it."

Carlyle saw its growing prospective power, when, thirty years ago, he proclaimed in his brave, resonant speech, "I say of all priesthoods, aristocracies, governing classes at present extant in the world, there is no class comparable for importance to that priesthood of the writers of books."

The art of writing-and of printing, which is a sequence to it,—is really the most wonderful thing

in the world. Books are the soul of actions, the only audible, articulate voice of the accomplished facts of the past. The men of antiquity are dead; their fleets and armies have disappeared, their cities are ruins, their temples are dust — yet all these exist in magic preservation in the books they have bequeathed to us, and their names and their deeds are as familiar to us as the events of yesterday. And these papers and books the mass of printed matter which we call Literature- are really the teacher, guide and law-giver of the world to-day.

You may judge a man more truly by the books and papers which he reads than by the company which he keeps - for his associates are often in a manner forced upon him, but his reading is the result of choice — and the man who chooses a certain class of books and papers unconsciously becomes more colored with their views, more rooted in their opinions, the mind becoming

"Subdued to what it works in, Like the dyer's hand."

We have not space to specify the various proofs of the controlling influence of Literature. We can only state undeniable general truths. All the life and feeling of the young girl, fascinated by some glowing love romance, is colored and shaped by the page she reads. If it is false and weak and foolish, she will be false and weak and foolish too; but if it is true and tender and inspiring, then something of its truth and tenderness and inspiration will grow

into her soul and become part of her very self. The boy who reads of deeds of manliness, of bravery and noble daring, feels the spirit of emulation grow within him, and the seed is planted which will bring forth fruit of heroic endeavor and exalted life.

TRUE FRIENDS.

MY DEAR JOE:

Did you ever think how transitory most of the friendships of life are- how very slight the tie that binds us even to those whose company we enjoy, and whose pleasure we would promote? How easily change of place or circumstance crowds out the old occupants of the heart and welcomes new ones in! We are surrounded with pleasant people, their society fills a large place in our lives, their respect and esteem is highly valued, we are glad to receive and render favors; but let us be removed from them but a short distance, just so that the orbits of our daily life do not intersect each other, and somehow they fade imperceptibly but surely away, just as the mist fades or the closing day darkens.

And the dead-they whose life, while living, seemed a necessity to our own, and whose death was like an eclipse of all our joyous being-how easily we become accustomed to their absence, and daily duties and new-found loves bridge over the awful chasm and fill the gloomy chaos which their departure made.

But some friendships live; some loves take such deep hold upon the heart that

"Time but the impression stronger makes,

As streams their channels deeper wear."

Did you ever go into some rich old picture gallery, Joe, where the walls were hung with glowing masterpieces of nature and life-grandeur to awe the soul, and beauty to delight the eye, and where the ceilings were illuminated by the hand of genius and radiant with the very smile and triumph of art? Those pictures come and go. Where you find a favorite to-day a new-comer will hang to-morrow; but the frescoed miracles of art stay steadfast in their place. No change disturbs them, but there they remain, growing ripe and mellow with age.

Just so it is with the heart. Many pleasant occupants come and go, but there are those who stay, like the frescoes on the walls and are an integral portion of the heart itself. He who has such friends - whose memory is a picture gallery, where in frescoed beauty smile the faces of unfading love-is rich indeed, rich in goods that cannot be purchased in the market, and whose value does not fluctuate with the price of gold. That you and I, Joe, may have such friends, and deserve them, is the wish of LUTE.

A DOCTOR is continually standing upon the confines of existence welcoming the new-comer, bid

ding farewell to the goer-away.

ART.

There is a great deal of humbug about what is called Art. It is regarded as "nice," and for its sake the fashionable lady endures an opera which she cannot comprehend, and the school miss works impossible animals in stunning colors. Men will crowd a. theatre to see the representation of Medea—a roused, passionate woman—and applaud the mimic representation with delight, when very likely many of them, if at home, could witness the reality itself without the expense of buying a ticket. Look at pictures. A short time ago we were all enthusiastic over Prang's chromos of ducks and chickens. How foolish to purchase the picture, when we could buy the live chicken for less money, which would be at least fully as “natural” as the picture, and, after having admired its beauty, we could broil its body and gratify the taste with its delicate flavor, thus making it serve a useful as well as æsthetic purpose! -like the South Sea Islander, who patiently listens while the missionary strives to enlighten his benighted mind, and then coolly carves and cooks the preacher and appeases his hunger with the savory joints. Just now Correggio's "Magdalen" is a great favorite. The picture is rich, voluptuous, fascinating. we suppose there are very many fully as beautiful and finely formed young women alive to-day—yet their friends would hardly advise them to adopt the scanty costume and abandon of manner which is ad

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