in distress. The relief was immediate, and proved to the Musselmen the force of the ancient proverb:

"YE race is not always to be won

By him who doth ye fastest run,
Nor ye batelle by that peopelle
Who has the mostest guns."

'As the eagle launches on the hunter who has climbed to his craggy nest, the forlorn hope of St. Joan charge against the spoilers of their homes. The bauseant rings as of old on the plains of Palestine; and lance to cimeter, breast to breast, and the hauberk of the Knight against the silken vest of the Turk, they play out the desperate game of

life.

'See the varied hues of rare garments how they flutter at the blows of those steelribbed men! and heavy through the reeking pall, hear the iron death-dice fall.'

The sea is reached, and gurgling forth their last imprecation, they stab under its blue waves. The ships! the ships! the sole refuge of the invading host, they gain them, and cutting loose from the fiery valor of their foes, are gone, leaving Malta a heap of ruins, yet still mistress of the seas.

From this time, for a period of more than two hundred years, the Knights of Malta remained in undisputed possession of the island they had so fiercely defended, and only used their arms at sea or in foreign lands. But still they fought on every battle-field in Europe and Asia, and their pennant led the line of every naval engagement. Their arms carried victory from Saragossa to High Belgrade,' and the shadow of their flag fell on Lepranto's sea. The Musselman merchantian, for fear of their cruisers, crept timidly along the shore, and scarcely a galley could leave the Egyptian ports for the Levant, without being boarded by the Maltese Knights.'

This is forcible limning; but there is much more and earlier historical reminiscence, in the same spirit; together with a description of the rise and progress of the DELTA-PHI Society, to which, in the volume itself, we are obliged to direct the attention of the reader.

The Poem' is from the hand of Mr. ANSON G. CHESTER, of Erie, of whom and from whom our readers have sometimes heard in these pages. He has written well and fervently. From his apostrophe to the Goddess of Fraternal Love' we take the only passage for which we can find room. It will indicate the true source of the feeling which was manifested by the auditory of the poet on the occasion of the delivery of his poem:

To be her faithful votaries we must learn
The reigning follies of the day to spurn;
Despise the current estimates of worth,
Remember merit does not spring from birth;
That money is not genius, and that brains
Are never bought with promises and gains;
That talent, though it venture forth in rags,
Is better than the miser's ponderous bags;
That mind alone is god-like; we must share
Our joys and ills in common- gladly bear
The burdens of the weak, the bad reclaim;
Contribute to another's good and fame,
As if they were our own; if one is sad,
Speak some sweet word to make him blithe and glad;
If one is head-strong, seek to change his mind;

If one is ruthless, seek to make him kind;
Eschew this silly pride of name and place,
And own that men are equal; boldly face
The weapons aimed at him whose only sin
Is poverty, and gently lead him in

To taste our luxuries; close door and gate
Against the imps of jealousy and hate;
Be cautious in opinions and in words;
Fly from suspicion, as affrighted birds

Fly from the fowler; keep our hearts and minds
Pure as the stars and fearless as the winds;

So shall we serve our peerless GODDESS best,
Receive her sweet approval, and be blest.'

The varied ornamental borders to the amply-broad pages of this 'booklet' are in excellent taste: as attractive to the eye as the matter to the mind.

A BASKET OF CHIPS. By JOHN BROUGHAM. In one volume: pp. 408. New-York: BUNCE AND BROTHER, Publishers, Number 126 Nassau-street.

MR. BROUGHAM, as an actor, is so well known to the public; he has become so popular in the rendition of light, humorous parts upon the stage; and his conception of fun is so transparent, that this book may be said to be well advertised by the very name of its author upon the title-page. But aside from his reputation upon the boards of our metropolitan theatres, Mr. BROUGHAM has been not only a writer of successful plays, but a frequent contributor of pleasant articles to American periodicals and journals, certain of the latter of which he himself projected, and of which he well sustained the direction. So that we need take no farther trouble to introduce Mr. BROUGHAM, 'per se,' to our readers, but proceed to say a few words touching the volume before us. One thing, at least, might be predicated of the book, in spite of its title: it is not as 'dry as a chip,' although there is a 'basket' of them. Some Passages in the Life of a Dog,' which opens the book, deserves the place of honor which it occupies. Its close is singularly pathetic. There are several burlesques and travesties, for which the writer has evidently a penchant, and in the execution of which he shows undeniable skill. The rendering of the opera of La Fille du Regiment,' and the popular play of 'Pauline' are as faithful to the originals as they are amusing. It was our purpose to have given a 'ballad' or two, with specimens from 'Evenings at our Club,' 'Night-mare,' and 'The BUNSBY Papers;' but as we cannot do it, in the crowded state of our pages, we have only to ask for these papers, and the others which make up the contents of the book, the favorable regard of our readers. It is well printed, and contains two or three clever illustrations.

A VOICE TO AMERICA: OR, THE MODEL REPUBLIC: Its Glory and its Fall. With a Review of the Causes of the Decline and Failure of the Republics of South-America, Mexico, and of the Old World, applied to the present Crisis in the United States. In one volume: pp. 404. New-York: EDWARD WALKER, 114 Fulton-street.

THIS 'Voice to America,' the publisher assures us in his preface, is not the product of any clique: it enforces the opinions of no one party: it has not been prepared under the auspices, nor has it received the sanction, of any set of men organized for political purposes. The subjects treated of concern not only the statesman and politician, but every American citizen, however humble or exalted—whether native or naturalized. They extend over a vast range of valuable facts and historical illustrations, pertaining to the rights and immunities of citizens under a republican government.

PHOENIXIANA: OR, SKETCHES AND BURLESQUES BY JOHN PHOENIX.'— A rare and most amusing volume is in the press of Messrs. APPLETON AND COMPANY, awaiting early publication, entitled 'Phænixiana: or, Sketches and Burlesques by John Phanix.' 'In the name of the PROPHET - Figs!' is his motto; but it is too modest by half, if intended to indicate the character of the contents of his volume, which we have had the pleasure to examine in manuscript. A more complete master of that species of wholesome satire which is best conveyed by a dexterous use of the broad burlesque, we have very seldom, if ever, encountered. But it is not alone with his pen that this is done. The numerous illustrations, from his own pencil, are master-pieces of art in their kind. In correctness of drawing, naturalness of accessories, and exquisite humor of expression, we know of nothing out of PUNCH better calculated to excite mingled admiration and cachinnation. We proceed to give a few specimens from the 'copy' now in the hands of the printers. The following is an extract from the brief preface:

'THE author does not flatter himself that he has made any very great addition to the literature of the age by this performance: but if his book turns out to be a very indifferent one, he will be consoled by the reflection that it is by no means the first, and probably will not be the last of that kind, that has been given to the public. Meanwhile, this is, by the blessing of DIVINE PROVIDENCE, and through the exertions of the immortal WASHINGTON, a free country, and no man can be compelled to read any thing against his inclination. With unbounded respect for every body,' etc.

The annexed is taken from an account of Phanix's Visit to the City of Benicia,' at which flourishing metropolis he arrived late at night, and before morning had nearly expired from the ravages of countless hordes of mosquitoes :'

'BUT every thing must have an end, circles and California gold excepted, and day at last broke over Benicia. Magnificent place! I gazed upon it from the attic window of the Solano Hotel, with feelings too deep for utterance. The sun was rising in its majesty, gilding the red-wood shingles of the United States' store-houses in the distance. Three majestic hulks were riding at anchor in the bay; clothes-lines

with their burdens were flapping in the morning breeze; a man with a wheel-barrow was coming down the street. Every thing, in short, spoke of the life, activity, business and bustle of a great city. But in the midst of the excitement of this scene, an odoriferous smell of beef-steak came like a holy calm across my olfactories, and hastily drawing in my cabasa, I descended to breakfast. This operation concluded, I took a stroll in company with the oldest inhabitant, from whom I obtained much valuable information, (which I hasten to present,) and who cheerfully volunteered to accompany me as a guide to the lions of the city. There are no less than forty-two wooden houses, and many of them two stories in height, in this great place, and nearly twelve hundred inhabitants, men, women, and children. There are six grocery, provision, dry-goods, auction, commission, and where-youcan-get-almost-any-little-thing-you-want stores; one hotel, one school-house, which is also a brevet-church, three billiard-tables, a post-office, from which I actually saw a man get a letter, and a ten-pin alley, where I am told a person once rolled a whole game, paid one dollar and fifty cents for it, and walked off chuckling. Then there is a mountebank, a common council, and a mayor, whom my guide told me was called 'Carni,' from a singular habit he has of eating roast-beef for dinner. But there is not a tree in all Benicia. 'There was one,' said the guide, 'last year, only four miles from here, but they chopped it down for fire-wood for the 'post.' Alas! why didn't the woodman spare that tree? The dwelling of one individual pleased me indescribably. He had painted it a vivid green. Imaginative being! He had evidently tried to fancy it a tree, and in the enjoyment of this sweet illusion, had reclined beneath its grateful shade, secure from the rays of the burning sun, and in the full enjoyment of rural felicity, even among the crowded streets of this great meropolis.'

The foregoing will remind the reader of the burlesque description given by the lamented ROBERT C. SANDS, of a Geological Visit to Hoboken,' which he once made in a horse-boat, before the days of steam. The subjoined satire upon a rich vulgarian, who had 'made his pile' in California, and was 'going in for science,' is not without its examplar nor its moral. It is Mr. B. S. BAGS' who is speaking, before the 'California Antiquarian Society:'

'HE had not the advantages of an early education; not much he had n't; but he read a good deal, and liked it; and he dare say now, that if the truth had been found out, he know'd a great deal more than some other filosifers at the East. He wanted to see science go on in California. He had a considerable interest in the place, and expected to spend his days thar. He was now fifty-three year old: he come out here twenty-three year ago as steward of a whale-ship, and he run away and turned doctor. (Laughter. Crics of Hush! hush!') But he married a Californy widder, with a large ranch, and he had, when the gold mines broke out, made his pile. He had over three hundred thousand dollars, and he did not care who know'd it. He meant to devote the interest of the same to learning science. (Uproarious applause. Cries of Go it: That's the p'int!' and 'Currambas!') He had three daughters, and he meant each on 'em should be a scientific man. (Loud applause.) One of 'em wore green specs now. (Immense applause, accompanied by a cry of 'Hep-ah!' from a person in a white hat and blue blanket coat, who, having evidently mistaken his place, was requested to leave at once by the chair, but did not do it.) Order being restored, Mr. BAGS went on to say that he had money enough, and had given up trading stock, and begun to study science

for itself. He had bought a 'mahomedon,' and could tell how hot it was at any time: he had examined the 'ah-teasin '-well in the square, and knew something about hydrocianics from a contemplation of scientific structures. By reading the papers daily, particularly the 'Alta Californian,' he found all sorts of new matters, which he supposed give him considerable idea of 'New Mattix:' but above all having seen in the papers from the States an account of the 'BOSILIST Pendulum,` and its application to the Bunker-hill Monument, by which it showed how the earthi turned round from east to west, he had ever since, for three hours each day, watched the flag-staff on the Plaza, and he could assure the meeting that when the flag was trailed, it always flew out to the west, and when it was h'isted, the rope always bent out to the east. (Hear, hear.) Gentlemen might say it was the wind that did it, but what made the wind? If any gentleman here had ever rid out to the Mission on a calm day, ('Hear' from a savant who kept a livery-stable in Kearney-street,) he must have felt a breeze blowing in his face. Well, he made that wind, he did, a-going; and it was the earth that made the wind, by turning around in just the same way. (Deep impression produced: low remarks: 'W. must examine this: Bags is a trump,' etc.

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'Mr. BAGS concluded that he had took up a great deal of time, but he hoped a society would be formed, and he would give his share toward it- - (applause) — and more too. (Loud applause.) He hoped he would be able to do more. He was now reading a paper in 'Silliman's Journal' on the 'Horizontal Paralysis,' with its effects on the Cellular System,' and he hoped to get some ideas out of it which he would adapt to California: and if he should, the society should have the benefit of it. Mr. BAGGS here sat down, amid prolonged and continuous cheers.'

We must now approach Mr. PHOENIX as a journalist. He is acting as the locum-tenens of the proprietor and editor of the 'San-Diego Herald,' Hon. Judge J. JUDSON AMES, who is compelled to be absent in his official capacity. On taking his temporary seat in the chair editorial, and in the first number of the paper under his management, he says:

'It will be perceived that I have not availed myself of the editorial privilege of using the plural noun in speaking of myself. This is simply because I consider it a ridiculous affectation. I am a 'lone, lorn man,' unmarried, (the LORD be praised for His infinite mercy!) and though blessed with a consuming appetite, which causes the keepers of the house where I board to tremble, I do not think I have a tape-worm: therefore I have no claim to call myself WE:' and I shall by no means fall into that editorial absurdity.'

6

But it seems, from the following, that he did use the editorial plural noun, and in the conduct of the journal under his charge so compromised 'the JUDGE' as a politician and a consistent editor, that rumors became rife that when the latter returned to his post, there would be trouble. They were not without foundation, as witness the following:

'PUBLIC anxiety had been excited to the highest pitch to witness the result of the meeting between us. It had been stated publicly that 'the JUDGE' would whip us the moment he arrived: but although we thought a conflict probable, we had never been very sanguine as to its terminating in this manner.

'Coolly we gazed from the window of the office upon the New-Town road. We descried a cloud of dust in the distance: high above it waved a whip-lash: and we said: 'The JUDGE' cometh, and his speed is like unto that of JEHU the son of NIMSHI, for he driveth furiously!'