Jowett’s edition of Plato, we cannot attempt to do more than offer our readers a few brief extracts, serving, however, we trust, as not inadequate samples of the literary treasures which are shortly to be revealed to our curiosity, and satisfying even the most incredulous that the invention of which we speak has been crowned with triumphant success. We have only to add that the great originator of this discovery entertains hopes that, by an ingenious _inversion_ of the action of his machine, he may be able to convert it, when required, into a RETROSPECTIVE TELEGRAPH, bringing back the Past, as it already antedates the Future, and restoring to us all the records of antiquity whose loss we have deplored, as, for example, the Odes of Sappho, the missing Books of Livy, the Prometheus Unbound of Æschylus, and the original MSS. of the Vedas, the Zend Avesta, and the Pentateuch. The final completion of this latter discovery, however, is scarcely perfected, and we shall not therefore pause to describe its probable value, but proceed without further delay to put our readers in possession of all the details for which we can find space concerning the Newspaper of 1977, which has been very sagaciously selected by the inventor as the first fruits of the working of his Prospective Machine. The name of this journal (which, we conclude, may be considered as the _Times_ of the twentieth century) is THE AGE OF SCIENCE, and obviously refers with pride to the consciousness of its readers that they live in a period of the world’s history when Science reigns supreme over human affairs, having achieved unimaginable triumphs, and altogether superseded most of the pursuits of mankind in ruder ages, such as War, the Chase, Literature, Art, and Religion. This appropriate title is printed, we may remark, in the largest and clearest possible Roman type, instead of in the Old English character now commonly used for a similar purpose. No fount, indeed, which we have ever seen employed, save in a few old Italian folio _éditions de luxe_, has type so large and legible as that in which the whole newspaper is printed, the greatest care apparently being taken to spare the eyes—or perhaps we should say the spectacles—of the readers, since, judging from the opticians’ advertisements of “Spectacles for Infants,” “Spectacles for Elementary Schools by the gross,” and “Cautions to Mothers” against allowing babies to use their eyes, it would appear that unassisted vision had become rare, if not unknown. There are ten columns on each page, each ten times as long as it is broad, and there are a hundred pages in the journal, proving that the decimal system has been thoroughly adopted even in such details. Spread out open, the _Age of Science_ would cover the floor of a very large hall, and we apprehend from certain marks that a convenient method of suspending it on pulleys from the ceiling, must have superseded our clumsy practice of holding