’Mid my deep and yearning sadness, With enrapturing thought I dwell On the scenes whose hues are melting Into memory’s mystic spell; But my gladness hath departed, For I tremblingly pursue The beloved yet changing phantom That still fades before my view; Aerial music floats around, Aerial voices meet mine ear, And my sighs are oft repeated By soft echoes hovering near; And from visions half ethereal— Mad with hope—I wildly start— But thy footsteps, lost Egeria, Are the beatings of my heart. * * * * * HISTORY OF THE COSTUME OF MEN, DURING THE EIGHTEENTH AND THE BEGINNING OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. BY FAYETTE ROBINSON. (_Continued from page 141._) We had almost forgotten to speak of another class, important though youthful, of the saucy, petted and spoiled _pages_. They, too, are gone, and not one of them survived the eighteenth century. The Almanac of the Empire, it is true, bears the names of thirty-two pages, and that of the restoration of seventy-two; but all this means nothing, for the last page, who really was what he professed to be, and who was the most celebrated of his class, was named Cherubim, and was born April 27, 1784. The following is his portrait. [Illustration]