one of those brazen-bowelled scholars who flourished at Alexandria when ancient science and art, sinking into a state of second childhood, had again found a cradle in Egypt. Oh, Isis, mother of Horus, how is thy image multiplied! Though changed in name, millions still worship it, ignorant of the type of that before which they bow.[6] All is symbol: the cards of the gamester are symbolic; full of meaning of high import, and yet he is ignorant of it, cares not to know it, though Court de Gebelin would teach him; is indifferent about his soul, and prays only that he may hold a good hand of trumps,--symbol again![7] As cards are printed on paper, from engraved blocks of wood, and as wood-engraving appears to have suggested the art of typography, or printing from moveable types, Breitkopf combines in one general essay his inquiries into the origin of playing cards, the introduction of linen paper, and the beginning of wood-engraving in Europe;[8] this essay being but a portion of the author's intended History of Printing. Singer[9] follows very nearly the same plan as Breitkopf; but though his Researches form a goodly quarto, both in point of size and appearance, he yet has not looked into every corner. The wide field of Playing Cards still admits of further cultivation; for, though often turned up by the heavy subsoil plough of antiquarian research and well harrowed by speculation, it remains undrained. In the 'Nouvelles Annales des Voyages,'[10] we find a dissertation by M. Rey, on Playing Cards, and the Mariner's Compass; apparently two incongruous things, yet indissolubly connected by the fleur-de-lis, which is to be seen on the drapery of some of the court or _coat_ cards, and which also forms an ornament to the north point. It appears that this dissertation on cards and the compass is but a fragment of a work composed by M. Rey, on the flag, colours, and badges of the French monarchy. Judging of his talents, from this "fragment," he appears to have been admirably fitted to write a general history of cards; and it is to be regretted that he did not give to his so-called "fragment," that comprehensive title, and introduce the essay on the mariner's compass and the history of the French flag as incidental illustrations of the fleur-de-lis, for certainly the fragment on cards,--rent from a history of the French flag,--does seem a little out of place, in a general collection of voyages and travels, unless, indeed, it be there introduced as a traveller's tale.