is not so. Harper photographs the Graphic upon wood-blocks, engraves and prints them as its own. Piracy of this kind is practised by all the illustrated papers in America, just as it is practised by the editors and publishers of literary periodicals and books. The absence of an international copyright law, places the whole of the English press at the disposal of the American publishers. And they avail themselves right merrily of everything worthy their attention. No sooner is “ The Holy Grail" published in England at seven shillings, than it is pirated and sold in America for fivepence! Frank Leslie's Illustrated Paper is less guilty of this crime of piracy than its contemporaries. Frank Leslie's chief delinquency is his “Spirit of the European Press," which is a reproduction of the best pictures of the French, English, and German papers. Occasionally he helps himself to a Punch illustration; the other day he condescended to avail himself of the design of a new cattle truck from the Illustrated Midland News, and to adapt the original text to the requirements of his New York readers. And yet we find Frank Leslie's Illustrated Paper combatting the criticism of the American non-illustrated papers, and condemning, in hearty terms, the pilfering of Harper's Weckly, and the others. So much for American journalism! Frank Leslie is by far the most honestly illustrated paper in America. An occasional honourable quotation of the source of foreign pictures and foreign matter would place the paper above reproach.

It will be interesting to note the difference between the borrowed cuts which appear in the European papers. In England, France, and Germany there is a system of purchase or exchange of illustrations. The Illustrated London Neurs has long been in the habit of selling electrotypes, or duplicates of some of its illustrations, to French journals. Nearly all the pictures in the Illustrated Times are French electrotypes. It is the duty of an agent in Paris to select these each week, and send them over to London. They are not old blocks, as some people imagine; they cannot be old, because they illustrate current events. Take, for example, some of the foreign pictures that have appeared in the Illustrated Midland News. By an arrangement with a leading paper in Paris, the proprietors of this paper shared the expense of producing certain pictures which on being engraved were electrotyped, and became the English copyright of the English paper. There is some little prejudice, however, in this country even against legitimate treaties of this kind; for we observe the Midland paper is gradually making its way out of the arrangement which was evidently a feature in its original plan.

The illustrated papers in the colonies are mostly too far away from contemporary publications to obtain the assistance of cliches; but for all that the illustrated mania is spreading even in the colonies. Australia and New Zealand have produced very creditable illustrated papers. A new one has recently appeared, illustrated with lithographic pictures, which means two printings, the first on a lithographic machine, the second on a letterpress machine. This may be suitable for a paper with a small circulation, but it would be hardly applicable where large numbers are required. Now is the time for the oft-threatened revolution in wood engraving. Every substitute for the wood block has failed so far. The man who could hit upon an invention for making a drawing on wood which could be printed, with ordinary type, without the tedious and expensive process of engraving, would make his fortune in a month. He would ruin a most industrious and exemplary class of men, it is true ; but Progress stops at neither coaches, hand-weavers, nor engravers. The latter need have no fear, however, at present; the signs of the revolution are further off than the perfection of the type-setting machine. When the day of inexpensive picture-printing comes, we may look for illustrated Daily Telegraphs and Pictorial Standards. Fancy the Telegraph's leaders illustrated, and the Standard adding bitterness to its articles, during times of excitement, with political cartoons. Imagine a flood of illustrated replies morning and evening, together with fierce general controversies, carried on by means of pen and pencil. Fancy the Echo's semi-leaders, each with a picture; and the Globe's political essays adorned with fancy portraits of the opposition. Imagine the Superfine Review cutting in with Girl of the Period sketches; and the Rock with pictures of ritualistic parsons. And then picture the provincial press teeming with the works of native talent-Potts, with an artist at his elbow. We mean no offence to the country press. We know that Potts only exists in a few insignificant towns. We pause to shut out from our mental vision this dreadful flood of illustrated possibilities. The reader will be glad to take breath also. Permit it, O worthy printer-successor of the immortal Cave ! Take up the next contributor's "copy;" and pray goodness his theme carry him not into such exciting chances !

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[On the 22nd of September, 1642," while entangled in a narrow lane," near the little village of Powick, Worcestershire, the Roundheads encountered Prince Rupert and his Cavaliers. After a short skirmish the Roundheads were defeated, and fled precipitately.]

HE news had come from Nottingham, the standard was

unfurl'd! Men's hearts were in their mouths, I wis; men's brains

in tumult whirled. King Charles, with gallant men-at-arms, was hast’ning from afar, To quell the rising ere it grew from Riot into War.

They marched, and marched, and marched, until the faithful city's

spires Rose bright before their dazed sight. Then belched the beacon-fires In north, and south, and east, and west ;-the children saw with

dread, Although the sun had sunk to rest, all night the sky was red.

A month has passed. The réveille on twenty drums is beat.
The Cavaliers they muster at the Cross with hurrying feet,
And through the city proudly ride, Prince Rupert at their head,
While every casement is undone, and parting words are said.

To one brave gallant-Martin Vere-a maiden drops a glove ;
Who would not like a Trojan fight with such a gage of love ?
He ties it gaily round his sword, and waves a fond adieu-
A glance, a sigh, a sob; and then the troop is lost to view.

In ambush close the Cavaliers at Powick village lie-
Not one amongst them, man or youth, but knows the way to die !
All hold their breath and grasp their swords more firmly as they hear
The horses' tramp, betokening the foe is drawing near.

On helmet, umbril, sword, and spear the gladd'ning sunlight gleamsNo moment this to think of home, no time for lovers' dreams.

“Hush, gentlemen !" Prince Rupert cries; “the game is on the

wing; Ha! by the Rood, they're here at last!-Now forward for the


A hundred swords flash in the air-a hundred voices cry, “For merry England! For the King !”—“For Cromwell !” some

reply. Swift thrusts-deep curses-groans—then cheers, re-echo left and


And now Old Nolly's men retreat along the roadway white.

In vain Lord Essex bids them charge, and bleeds and fights amain;
For Sandys has fail'd to rally them, and lies amongst the slain.
Entangled in the narrow road, they trample o'er their dead,
And ere the fray has well begun—the Roundhead troops have fled !

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With open missal on her lap, a trusting maiden waits
For his return who rode that morn so proudly through the gates;
And she may wait full many a day, for in the roadway red,
Beneath the elms, her Cavalier is lying stark and dead !


VOL. IV., N. S. 1870.



(L'Homme qui Rit.)






LL this arose from the circumstance of a soldier having found a bottle on the beach,

We will go into detail.

In all details there are wheels within wheels. One day one of the four gunners composing the garrison of Castle Calshor picked up from the sand at low water a flask covered with wicker, thrown up by the tide. This flask, covered with mould, was corked by a tarred bung. The soldier carried the waif to the colonel of the castle, and the colonel sent it to the Admiral of England. The Admiral meant the Admiralty; with waiss, the Admiralty meant Barkilphedro.

Barkilphedro, having opened and uncorked the bottle, carried it to the queen. The queen immediately took the matter into consideration.

The facts were found to be correct. They obtained from the local archives at Vevey, at Lausanne, the certificate of Lord Linnæus' marriage in exile, the certificate of the birth of the infant, the certificate of the decease of the father and mother; and they had duplicates, duly authenticated, made to answer all necessary tequirements.

All this was executed with the most rigid secrecy, with what is called royal promptitude, and with that mole-like silence recommended and practised by Bacon, and later made law by Blackstone, for affairs connected with the Chancellorship and State, and in

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