"IN THE SO-CALLED NINETEENTH CENTURY."--When giving three Bishops a little touching up in Mr. KKOWLES'S _Nineteenth Century_, why does the playful Professor always write "_à priori_" instead of "_a priori?_" As no one would accuse Mr. HUXLEY of falling into a "clerical error," the explanation must be that he had nothing to do with it, or didn't know any better, or his printer would have it so, or the Printer's Devil possessed him, or Bathybius got loose and played the mischief with the type. Perhaps it is we who are wrong, if so, we ask has it anything to do with the new accent which is to be used in the pronunciation of Latin? A trifling matter--but for a Professor so "acute" such an accent may be considered a "grave" mistake. * * * * * [Illustration: THE GLADSTONE BAIT. "As regards Home Rule for Ireland, I may say I am prepared to go as far as Mr. Gladstone's own words warrant," &c., &c.--_Times_, Nov. 9. _Joe, the Incomplete Angler (to himself)_, "I THINK I'LL CATCH 'EM WITH THIS!"] * * * * * _The Incomplete Angler singeth_:-- It was all very well, when afar from the "swim," With tackle unready, and plans rather dim, To go in for splashes and plunges. Though, whether Lord S-L-SB-RY thought it so well, I am not quite assured. How the papers did yell At my whirls, and my whisks, and wild lunges! But now, on the spot, with the fish all about, The Waltonian _rôle_, there is not the least doubt, Befits a diplomatist Angler. I must not dance war-dances, shy heavy stones, Or talk in the strident stentorian tones Of a partisan public-house wrangler. I frighten the fish with my shindy? No, no! I will show there's a fisherman's tact about Joe. I make a _fiasco_? No, thankee! I'll be as discreet as _Piscator_ could wish, In a style will enchant the Canadian fish, And utterly ravish the Yankee. But now, as to bait? Well, ahem!--yes, I fear, The Gladstonian minnow is popular here,-- It's a bait I abominate wholly. And yet--if I fish as I fancy--I feel I perhaps may go home with no fish in my creel,-- And that would be most melancholy! I am sure my own patent assortment of flies Ought to make _any_ fish in the universe rise; My spoon-bait is terribly killing In some Irish waters. But here,--well, my hook Must be hidden with something from Hawarden's old book, Though to use it I own I'm unwilling. Ha! ha! Yes, I have it. I've made up a bait That some will think Old, and that some will think Great, And all will deem Grand--if it nicks 'em. It's green--shot with orange; the fins have a look Of a pair of big collars. Great Scott, what a hook! Yes, this, I am certain, must fix 'em.