a remarkable character. His matin songs were a joyous gush of music to greet the meek-eyed morning,' with now and then a prolonged trill, or a sweet carol, like the plaintive notes of the Robin, or the flute-like tones of the Oriole.

"Thus died, in the prime and vigor of his extraordinary powers, our beloved little songster, Robert of Lincoln. Most truly to him

'BELONGED the lay that lightly floats,
And his the murmuring, dying notes,
That fell as softly as snow on the sea,
And could melt the heart as instantly!'

'Letters are to be sent to WASHINGTON IRVING, W. C. BRYANT, to the Editor of the KNICKERBOCKER, and to Judge WILDMAN, communicating the mournful intelligence. 'There is much more of interest in reserve, but I have already trespassed upon your time and space, and must omit to state how and where he was buried; how he was shrouded by my young children in fine linen, and covered over as he lay for some days in the library with cypress and pine; and lastly, also, his bier with flowers. 'Judge WILDMAN sends me in response the following beautiful effusion:

Lines

WRITTEN ON HEARING OF THE SUDDEN AND MELANCHOLY DEATH OF MY FRIEND G. C. MORGAN'S FAVORITE BIRD, ROBERT OF LINCOLN,

'Bring him back to the vale where the wild roses bloom,
Let the poor LINCOLN Orchestra chant o'er his tomb;
Let his own meadow-daisy gleam bright o'er his breast-
Lay him low in the grass by the Bob-o-link's nest.

'I know that the song which he sang in his cell,
Might have seemed like the song of his own happy dell;
But alas! while he caroled his sweet mellow lay,
While his song was the sweetest, his heart was away!

'His heart was away in the green sunny bowers,
Where BOB-O-LINK anthems are chanted 'mid flowers;
His heart stole away to the meadow and lea,
Where once his sweet song was the song of the tree!

'Think you that the prisoner, bound in his gloom,
Could cheerfully warble his song of 'Sweet Home?
Think you that his soul could partake of those strains,
'Mid the grating and jarring, and clanking of chains?

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'No! no! the proud spirit would sink 'neath its weight,
And perish 'mid tears that were poured through the grate;
He might sing of home, though his soul would rebel;
He might sing, although dying alone in his cell!

'Oh! then bring him back to his own happy vale,
Where he sang his first song in the sweet summer gale;
Lay him low by the stream where the tall grasses wave,
Let the Morning weep tears over BOB-O-LINK's grave!
Danbury, Nov. 21, 1855.

H. B. WILDMAN.'

A bird's-eye view' of bird-thought. THE name of FORBES has been so long identified with the 'Society Library' of this city, that every KNICKERBOCKER is familiar with it in 'that connection.' Mr. JOHN FORBES graduated from Columbia College in 1794 in the same class with the lamented PETER G. STUYVESANT, PETER A. JAY, SYLVANUS MILLER, (the only present survivor,) and other well-known and honored names. Mr. FORBES was chosen librarian the same year, and removed the Library from the old City Hall to the building erected for it in Nassau-street, where his extensive reading, retentive

memory, and sound judgment, long rendered him an able adviser of the numerous class of readers who found in the City Library,' as it was familiarly called, their chief resource for study or research. Mr. PHILIP J. Forbes succeeded his father as Librarian, and has continued in that office until the present year, making a period of more than three-score years, during which the name has been associated with the Library. Mr. FORBES, still in the prime of life, and surrounded by friends who have long and favorably recognized his zeal and devotion to the institution to which he was attached, and his aptitude for his business as a Librarian, now comes forward in a new enterprise on his own account, which he announces in the following circular. We beg to assure our readers, in every part of the country, that a more trusty, well-informed, experienced agent for the purchase of books than Mr. FORBES, cannot be found on this continent :

'PHILIP J. FORBES, late Librarian of the New-York Society Library, respectfully informs his numerous friends, that he has opened, at No. 371 Broadway, second house above TAYLOR's International Hotel, an establishment under the name of Forbes' Atheneum, the objects of which are to combine a Reading-Room with a Library of Reference, and the gradual formation of a collection of standard literature for general circulation; also, an Agency for the execution of orders for the purchase and sale of every variety of Books, Scientific Apparatus and Works of Art, whether from this country or abroad, and to furnish reliable information, to be obtained from the consultation of our public Libraries, and those of other cities, or from competent advisers.

'Mr. FORBES would respectfully suggest to gentlemen forming Libraries, or seeking special works, either for their private dwellings, counting-rooms, or offices, the advantage of intrusting their commissions to an experienced book-purchaser. Your patronage of this enterprise is respectfully solicited.

'PHILIP J. FORBES, Librarian. 'Terms of subscription, $10 per annum. Orders from a distance, accompanied by a fee or draft, will meet with prompt attention.'

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Mr. FORBES is receiving large orders.
A FRIEND in Lexington, Ken-
tucky, (much, very much, did it grieve us, while in Louisville, that we could 'nt go
there, and to Frankfort, and Ashland, with a party of friends, to partake of
the true Kentucky hospitality, of which we had had such a foretaste, see the
blooded cattle, and the Blue-grass Farms,' represented, as we were told, even
feebly by the rich acres of 'HUNTER'S Bottom,' on the Kentucky side of the
Ohio River - got to get back again, now, to the beginning of this sentence,)
a friend then, as we have said, in Lexington, Kentucky, sends us the fol-
lowing' Hard-Shell Baptist Sermon,' which he avers to be genuine, and for-
wards us, in proof, the name of the speaker, and of his reporter. It almost
equals, in closeness of argument, and stickiness to text, the 'spontaneous effort'
of the clerical hero who played upon a ' Harp of a Theöusand Strings:'

"MY BREETHERING: The Scripturs tell us, we are buried with CHRIST by baptism.' 'Buried,' my friends, not sprinkled' by baptism.

"Suppose that one of you had lost your little dà'hter, and you had laid her out, and prepared her for the grave; and your neighbors had come in and said: 'Friend, we will take thy child and bury it;' and afterward, when you went out to see the grave of your little one, you found they had laid her down and sprinkled a little earth over her! What would you have thunk of them?

"Suppose again, that in the fall of the year, you had dug your potatoes, your turnips, your parsnips, and your other roots for the winter's use, and had dug a trench to bury

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'em in; and you had said to your servant, 'SALLY, take the house-gang and go and bury those potatoes, those turnips, those parsnips, and those other roots:' and afterward when you walked forth to see that all were safe and secure for the winter's use, you had found that they had just sprinkled a little dirt on them! What, my friends, would you have done? I reather suppose, my dear breetheren, you would ha' tried the virtews of the cow-skin!

"But they are not a bit worse than those poor, ignorant, and benighted Episcopalians and Presbyterians and Methodists, who sprinkle a leetle water on one another, and call it buried by baptism!'

"I am afraid, my friends, I am very much afraid indeed, that they will catch something hotter than the cow-skin in the day of reck'ning!''

An illustration, after all, of the wisdom of the Oriental remark: The speaker is one thing, and the listener is another.' Doubtless, doubters were confirmed — believers strengthened—by this unanswerable argument. We have often heard arguments quite as ridiculous. - OUR publisher has

been on his travels, and in a gossipping letter to the EDITOR thus discourses of that travel's history:

Encidents of Winter Travel between New-York and Sandusky, Ohio.

"To L. GAYLORD CLARK, ESQ.:.

'MY DEAR SIR: I have thought a few brief notes of a hasty trip to Sandusky might interest some of our readers, as no doubt the major part of them belong to the great travelling public; for whenever and wherever you go in our country, you find the cars and boats so filled, that the question very naturally arises, 'Do not our people travel continually?'

'On the afternoon of December 31st, I took up my line of March for the foot of Duanestreet, to go by the New-York and Erie Rail-road to Dunkirk. On the ferry-boat I met a gentleman well known to many thousands of our people, through the columns of one of our most popular dailies, who was looking for some friend to take charge of his daughter, a young and lovely damsel of some sixteen summers, on her way to one of the boarding-schools in the western part of the Empire State. Having been indebted to my worthy friend in more ways than one, I gladly took the young lady in charge, well pleased to have so fair a companion for a part of my journey. As it proved, she was a far better traveller than myself; for I am never able to sleep in the cars. Yet this young lady, curling herself up as ladies are wont to do, on one of the wide seats of the Erie cars, (you don't find such on any other road,) with a thick shawl for a covering, like sweet Innocence upon its mother's breast was soon entirely unconscious of the manner in which we were whirling over the tortuous windings of our way. The night was very cold, the ground thickly covered with a dazzlingly white mantle of snow, so beautifully emblematic of angelic purity, while with our breath JACK FROST drew flowers upon the window-panes, with a magical skill tnat no artist hand could equal.

"The first night passed without any incident worthy of remark, the conductors keeping up to time, and every thing going as well as we could desire. The next morning, before sunrise, my fair young friend bade me adieu, to take one of the connecting roads to her destination.

'An occurrence which happened on the western division of the Erie Road, terminating at Dunkirk, afforded considerable amusement to the passengers, and may be worth relating. Our train was here about twenty to thirty minutes behind time, and there was some fear that we might miss the connection with the train going west from Dunkirk. In one of the cars were two very respectable gentlemen, each about sixty years of age, whom you would at once set down for Squire or Judge, if you should meet them in their native village, men that a glance would tell you were what the world calls wellto-do. Ah! what a democrat is the rail-road car! All distinctions are levelled here,

unless it be the poor emigrants, who are cooped up like chickens in a crate, with scarce any more attention to their comfort. Other travellers are all on an equal footing, and the choice of seats (for here none are reserved) belongs to those who come first. But to return. The first gentleman, whom we shall call Mr. A -, says to the gentlemanly conductor, 'Are we not behind time, Sir?' 'Yes, Sir, about twenty-five minutes.' At this, Mr. A - becomes very uneasy, repeating his question again and again, and at length saying it was of the utmost consequence to him to proceed without any detention. He would not fail being in Cincinnati the next day for a thousand dollars. He begged the conductor to go faster, saying: 'Can't you make up the time? A little more speed will surely bring us in,' etc. The conductor had given the engineer orders to proceed as rapidly as was consistent with safety, and the cars were then moving about thirty miles an hour. Upon this, Mr. B accosts Mr. A, saying, 'Why do you urge the conductor to go so fast? It is not safe, Sir. My neck is worth more to me than your thousand dollars, and I do not choose to risk it for your accommodation.' They continued in this way till they both began to get a little high, to the evident amusement of the passengers. In the mean time the cars were descending a grade, and having a clear sweep ahead, the engineer had got them going considerable over '2.40,' when Mr. A —, looking out of the windows, began to notice that they were almost flying; and beginning to reflect that 'discretion was the better part of valor,' he says quietly to the conductor: 'A'nt we going rather fast? Do you think it is entirely safe? I would not wish to have my head broke, even to arrive in time.' The conductor, seeing the state of the case, told him he had given the engineer orders to go with all possible speed: that there was a gentleman on board who would not fail to be in Cincinnati next day for a thousand dollars. Mr. A- — was now seriously alarmed, and begged the conductor to countermand his orders at once. This had passed without Mr. B. ➡'s notice, when the conductor, almost unable to contain himself, informs Mr. B that A. is frightened, and wishes to go slower. At this Mr. B jumps up in great glee, exclaiming, 'Where is he? Let me see him.' 'Ah!' he says, 'You have got enough of going fast, have you?' heartily enjoying Mr. A's fears, who could only say: 'Oh! go away; I don't want you to talk to me any more.' We are pleased to say that we had some fifteen minutes to partake of a very good dinner at Dunkirk before the train from Buffalo came along.

'It is sad to think that neither communities nor individuals can escape the consequences of misdeeds. We could not but think of this as we passed the borough of Erie, where if any were disposed to forgive and forget events no doubt sincerely repented of long ago, they were prevented from doing so by the remarks of some one reminding his neighbor of the facts which have given the place such an unenviable notoriety.

'I arrived at Cleveland about half-past five P.M., and to my surprise and regret found I could not go on to Sandusky that evening. I could have gone to Toledo, to Cincinnati, to Indiana, or to almost any other point except just where I wished to go, which was quite a consolation. I sometimes think necessity is about the only virtue I have, so I make the best of it; and as I went that pleasant but cold New-Year's night to a delightful warm chamber in the WEDDELL House, I could have asked nothing more than the presence of a few choice spirits it is my happiness to know in that charming City of the Lake. But I knew they were far more agreeably employed than in entertaining me; so mentally wishing each of them a happy New-Year, I was soon in a sound and refreshing sleep. The next morning, to accommodate the omnibus-driver, I had to leave the hotel at seven A.M., and shiver three-quarters of an hour in a miserable ticket-office, waiting for the cars which leave for Sandusky at eight o'clock. The ride along the lake to Sandusky was very pleasant; and soon after my arrival, I called on C. L. DERBY, Esq., and had an opportunity of going through the rooms of the Cosmopolitan Art Association. Such a collection would attract thousands of visitors in New-York; and here I spent the time till the hour of dinner very pleasantly. The beautiful bay on which Sandusky is situated was now a lake of ice, and many persons were engaged in saving that precious luxury for the coming summer. Business at this time was so interrupted by the

season, that I could judge but little of the appearance of the city in the summer. Having finished my business and taken tea with Mr. DERBY and his lady, I was ready to return. The cars from Toledo and the west came along about seven P.M., and were disagreeably full and almost suffocating, the weather having moderated considerably. I reached Cleveland about ten o'clock, and soon took the cars for Erie and Buffalo. And here I would say, if the worthy President of the Lake-Shore Road and his associates do not intend to drive the travelling public into the lake, they are taking very certain means to drive them into the boats as soon as the navigation is open. Such a jolting as we got on that road we have seldom been favored with, and we hope we may not soon again. If none but dyspeptics were to travel over it, I think they might rely on being cured quicker than by any medicine they could take. O Mr. CASE! do try and have these rough places made smooth before next summer.

'Having a good supper before I left Sandusky, and a supply of apples, provided by the thoughtful kindness of Mrs. DERBY, I did not feel like partaking of the oysters prepared for the passengers at Erie, about two A.M. We arrived in Buffalo about six, and at half-past were on our way over the Buffalo City road to Hornellsville. I asked the conductor if I could get breakfast here, as by this time (nine A.M.) I began to be somewhat hungry. Without inquiring how long the cars stopped, I prepared for breakfast, supposing all the passengers would breakfast here, as we had no time to do so at Buffalo. I had got about half-through eating, when the cars started without any notice, and I was left to enjoy the hospitalities of the place for twelve hours. I had left my little baggage in the car, so I telegraphed to have it taken out at Elmira, and kept till I arrived there; but, I am sorry to say, some one who had noticed that I did not return, considering himself entitled to my baggage, took and claimed it for his own, and I not being there, his claim is yet good.

'I knew no person in Hornellsville except Mr. HALLETT, and my first thought was to call on him and see if he would not favor me with a discount in his bank. My bad luck still attended me, for I did not find him in; so this little arrangement could not be effected. I then went over to the American Hotel, which I take to be one of the ancient institutions of this new and rapidly-growing place, and asked the young man in the office if he could not give me a quiet room where I could throw myself on a bed and rest for a few hours. He gave me one in the upper story, which he said would be the most quiet. But quiet there was none, and the noise of heavy heels up and down the passage, and the bright sun-light in the room, made it impossible for me to sleep, and to this fact the reader is indebted for this veritable history: for finding I could not sleep, I rose and went down to the sitting-room, and called for paper and wrote out my narrative as a warning to all rail-road travellers, and to those who go on the Erie road in particular, to be sure and know how much time they have before they begin to eat ; and here let me ask Mr. Superintendent MCCALLUM, if passengers who ride ninety-one miles without any chance to eat, are not entitled to time for breakfast, and if he has no bowels of compassion for those who, like me, had travelled all night without any chance to get a bite except oysters, cakes, and pies at Erie?

'While waiting for the train at Hornellsville, my attention was attracted by some lads in the dépôt who were gorging themselves with apples, candy, cakes, etc. I cannot but think the stomach of a boy, from fifteen to seventeen, is the most astonishing machine in the world. There is no calculating the amount of candy, pea-nuts, apples, and such things it will contain. The only thing I can liken it to is, one of the Sixthavenue Rail-road cars on a rainy day. I have had considerable experience on that and other city rail-roads, and never saw a car full yet, at least not in the estimation of the conductor and driver. I should like to have some of the scientific gentlemen investigate a boy's stomach, and let the world know, if possible, its power of tension, whether it has any limit or not, how many pounds' pressure it will bear to the square inch, and any other facts throwing light on this important subject.

'You can go from New-York to Cleveland, Ohio, six hundred miles, as a regular thing, day by day, in twenty-four hours. When shall we look for the same regularity and speed in our communication with the south? When shall we go to New-Orleans