YALE is interested in the welfare of our Chess Club.

THE Virginia University Magazine contains much matter, but very little mind. The Denison Collegian is chiefly remarkable for bad spelling. The Dartmouth has begun to copy its puffs. The Yale Lit. is intensely literary, filling its columns with notices of various books written by Swinburne, Whitman, and a certain Mr. Thackeray.

THE Spectator is goody, painfully so. Its philippics against the intoxicating cup are truly Swinburne-like. The Pegasus of the far North is evidently a teetotaller, - possibly his didactic flights and broken-winded canter might go far towards proving him a jackass. One of his most graceful curvets is recorded below:-

"I've sought for years, mid death and tears,

The lore of Greece and Rome;


I've wept with joy o'er works of art

In many a kingly home.

In woe and care was one to share

Each joy that me befell;

But, ah! I sob alone to-day, -

He drank the dew of Hell."

All the poetry of this is in the first line, where "years" are beautifully imagined to be lying between "death" and "tears." We fail to see the connection of death and tears with Greece and Rome, or why a man should search so eagerly for years at all. The next couplet is intended to show the high tone prevalent among the writer's acquaintances, but it can only happen in Montreal that joy is a regular "befaller" in woe and care. The denouement is certainly very sad; but it is at once seen that "he" would prefer even a gin-cocktail to "sobbing" with the author of this truly touching poem.

A VOICE from the far West:-

"I want to be a Harvard,

And with the Harvards stand;

I'd lie abed in the morning

Until the clock strikes ten."