Out of a thousand picked scholars it is something to be able to assert that all the men whose good opinion is worth having, are loud in its praise. I think a man who gives years of study to a great work, purely with the motive that the rulers of his country may thoroughly understand the peoples they are governing by millions, and who gives that knowledge freely and unselfishly, and who while so doing runs the gauntlet of abuse from the vulgar, silly Philistine, who sees what the _really_ pure and modest never see, deserves great commendation. To throw mud at him because the mediæval Arab lacks the varnish of _our_ world of to-day, is as foolish as it would be not to look up because there are a few spots on the sun. TO RICHARD FRANCIS BURTON. "_The Thousand Nights and a Night._" Adown the welkin slant the snows and pile On sill and balcony; their feathery feet Trip o'er the landscape, and pursuing sleet, Earth's brow beglooming, robs the lift of smile: Lies in her mourning-shroud our Northern Isle, And bitter winds in battle o'er her meet; Her world is death-like, when, behold! we greet Light-gleams from morning-land cold grief to guile: A light of golden mine and orient pearl, Vistas of fairy-land, where Beauty reigns And Valiance revels; cloudless moon, fierce sun, The wold, the palm-tree; cities; hosts; a whirl Of life in tents and palaces and fanes: The light that streams from "Thousand Nights and One." ----ISABEL BURTON. Tangier, Morocco, February 19. "CAPTAIN BURTON'S 'ARABIAN NIGHTS.'