becomes, in its truest form, a complete picture of individual and domestic life. It supplements history, filling up its vast outline, ond affording a faithful transcript of human character as moulded by the varying circumstances of each succeeding age.

Baucis and Philemon.

A TRANSLATION.

ONCE on a time,-'twas long ago,
So Ovid wrote, who ought to know-
Upon a wet and cheerless day,
The mighty Jove betook his way,
With his son Hermes as a guide,
Over the hills so bleak and wide
Of Phrygia. The travelers,
As poor benighted wanderers,
At many a door had vainly sought
For shelter from the chilling blast,
And rain, that fell so hard and fast;-
The dwellers heard but heeded not,
And rudely turned the gods away,
Nor showed them hospitality.

At length a lowly cot they reached,—

Its walls were bare, its roof was thatched

Where Baucis, an old pious dame,

Who neither knew nor cared for fame,

Dwelt with Philemon,-a true wife

Much loved and loving all her life.

When the heavenly guests drew near the cot,
And bowed beneath the lowly door,
Philemon quickly benches brought,
Offered them shelter as they sought,
And a hearty welcome worth far more.
While Baucis with good haste, began
To light the fire upon the hearth
With leaves and faggots, and to fan

The embers with her scanty breath.
Then from their little garden spot,
Which scarce supplied their daily store,
They gathered roots, and heeded not
Their needs, when others needed more.
But glad their simple board they spread,
With honey, and a bowl of wine;
And kind and cheering words they said,
As to the feasts their guests they led,
By the blazing knot of pine.

Now the feast at best was a simple one,
But showed a hospitable will;

In his mem'ry book Jove wrote it down,
And there you'll find it written still.-
Written along with many an other
Record like this,-pure deeds of love-
For the poor are but giving gifts to Jove
When they cheer and bless a needy brother.-

And while they sat by the blazing pine,
Feasting their guests with the ruddy wine,
Nor thought of favor nor reward,

In trembling fear, they saw, aghast!

No matter how oft the cups were passed,
The bowl kept full of its own accord.
Then first they recognized each guest,
And piously together kneeled,
With suppliant hands for a repast
So mean, for pardon both appealed.

By chance they kept one poor lone goose,

That shared their morsel and their house;

Philemon, then, to make amends,

Would sacrifice it for his friends;

And straightway seized it, but the bird

At being sacrificed demurred,

And fleeing from his feeble hand,
Between the gods it took its stand.
Who, e're it could be caught again,
Forbade the poor bird to be slain.
Then, turning on the trembling pair

Benignant looks, that soothed their fear,
They bid them listen.

"We are gods!

And this unfriendly land shall pay
For all the harsh and selfish words,

That greeted us this dreary day.

Like shoots upon the poplar trees;
And old Philemon's hair, as sheaves,
Grew twig-like, waving in the breeze.
Their bodies stiffened, and their feet,
Like oaken trunks, branched into roots.
And stretching out their arms to greet
Each other, these, e're they could meet,
Were limbs, with bark, and slender shoots!
A leafy crown waved on each head
Like branches of a Summer's growth:
"Farewell!" "Farewell!" they barely said,

And the rugged bark closed up their month!

The shepherds of Tyanea,

Still show to the pious traveler,

The two trees standing side by side,

Where the worthy couple lived and died.

The Cruise of the Mazeppa.

REST is an imperative decree of nature to man. Nor to the student ever does it seem more desirable, than after long weeks of toil and vexation on the mathematical tasks of Sophomore year. It was at the close of the last Summer term, that a party of Sophs, worn out by constant cramming for "Biennial," that much dreaded ordeal and fearful barrier to the pleasures of Junior ease,-embarked at "Long Wharf" in the sloop "Mazeppa," of thirty tons, for a two weeks cruise. There is no authentic log-book of the voyage extant; hence, all statements must be solely from memory, and if the reader should be prone to regard any of them as bordering on the improbable, he must appeal, for confirmation, to those of our party now at "Yale." We employed a large crew for manning the sloop, consisting, all told, of a Captain and one man. It is here absolutely indispensable, that one should become fully cognizant with the characteristics of our commander, in order to appreciate his real worth. When perfectly erect, his altitude might have been five feet ten; but, in his natural

position, his sphere formed a beautiful parabolic curve, inclining forward at about the same angle, as the statue of "Atlas," with the world's weight resting on his back. His general physiognomy was striking in the extreme; naturally of light complexion, but somewhat browned, by constant exposure to the elements,-his countenance lighted up with orange-colored freckles,—and the features admirably set off by a huge, fiery beard, radiating from each side, like the halo of the sun, as represented in the antique paintings of Dutch artists. In outward appearance, indeed, not very prepossessing; yet he appeared to us as a man of not very firm purpose, not so ignorant as to be obstinate, not so intelligent as to be our superior. The second and last man of the crew, needs but a word of description; he was of good personal appearance, and by his efforts in our behalf-his marine yarns, jolly disposition and entertaining ways, soon won the favor and commendation of all.

But to return from our digression. At half-past eleven, on the evening of August first, the sloop, which, for a long time, had been imbedded in the blue mud, by the influx of the tide swung free. For more than two hours we had been patiently watching the rising of the water, each eager to leave these classic shades, and let study give place to fun. At last she floats. Man the ropes, unfurl the sail, hoist the jib, came forth, in stentorian voice, from our Captain. All took hold of the work with a will. By dint of great perseverance and nautical skill, we moved slowly along, just grazing the dingy barks moored by the wharf. At last we are in the open stream. The moon favored us with her cheering beams; and with glad hearts and a refreshing breeze, we sailed gaily along. Gradually, the stately buildings and lofty spires receded from view, and with many a College tune, we bade them, for a time, farewell. As the hours sped on, one by one our party sought rest, until, at last, the helmsman and myself were the sole occupants of the deck. In a short time, the medley of voices had entirely ceased, the glim was doused, and "Morpheus" held them all in his pleasant embrace. Creeping quietly below, I felt from bunk to bunk, hoping, perchance, to find some place to stretch my limbs, but all in vain. Every square foot was pre-occupied; much chagrined at the prospects of a night's rest, I felt my way back, through pitchy darkness, as best I could, ever and anon stumbling over some animate man, snoring sonorously on the floor; from which many were the anathemas hurled against me, for my disturbance at that unseemly hour. In behalf of the sloop's quiet, I laid myself down in a wellcompacted heap, in the very tracks where I had first stood; thinking