in short, advocate the claims of literature in general, and its high title to consideration, as it commends itself to all men in common; and we plead guilty to the ambition of adding to the numerous honourable characteristics of our countrymen, that of being in an eminent degree a reading people. Irishmen ought to remember that their country was famous in ancient days for its learning, and cherish an honest ambition in modern times to retrieve its character. As one means of forwarding this object, we would seek to diffuse among them a reading habit, and give our best encouragement to whatever instrumentalities might tend to increase libraries, and make reading easy to all classes. Cheap literature is a luxury of sterling value; but until people have acquired a taste for it, they will hold it cheap enough. Never do we pass a book-shop, or an humble bookseller’s stall, without a feeling of reverence for the profession. There, say we, is a dispensary of ideal aliment indispensable to our mental existence, and, if properly used, yielding nothing but health, prosperity, and enjoyment to the soul. If our countrymen read, they will become informed--learned; and if they read good books, they must not only become informed and learned, but wise. The vivacity of their conversation will then be enriched with all the streams both of useful and entertaining knowledge. Reading will be a delightful resource to the working man, and no bad employment at least to the idle. Poverty will have its compensations. There will be another distinction set up in society besides that of having, or not having, mere worldly professions. The dignity of mind will be asserted. Mind with its congenial influences must act upon manners; and if, as the inscription upon the old gate at Oxford beareth record, “manours maketh ye man,” our country will be once more exalted among the nations. X. D. [1] The first stone of Trinity College was laid on the 13th March 1591, by Thomas Smith, Mayor; it was opened two years afterwards, in 1593. [2] This return is given from the most recent calculation officially made, and may be depended on. SANTA CROCE. BY J. U. U. I stood and saw the pictured gloom unfold Grey Santa Croce, crossed by dusky rays That dimmed its columned aisle; as from of old Its ancient air lay slumbering o’er the cold Dark dwellers underneath. When to my gaze, Shade-like, ’mid that grey gloom of distant day. She stood, whom Petrarch looked on there and caught That love too strong for death! A tender gleam Like moonlight fell around her, baffling thought; Strange! ’twas remembrance thither stole, and brought That smile of sweetness from my breast’s deep stream More strong than fancy, and transformed the dream To thee--from her, whom a less hallowed fire Hath made immortal with the love-devoted lyre.