LITERARY NOTICES.

THE NEWS: A POEM. BY GEORGE H. CLARK. Pamphlet Form: pp. 49. Hartford, Conn.: Published by F. A. BROWN.

An old correspondent, 'JOHN HONEYWELL,' says in a preliminary note to this lively and matter-full poem: 'About an hour's worth of this Poem was spoken before a Hartford audience, at the request of the Young Men's Institute. The author, for divers reasons, felt impelled to omit a portion of it in the delivery. The reader, for different, but to him equally satisfactory motives, may possibly feel inclined to omit a much larger portion.' Not if he is of our way of thinking, he will not: for if once he begins it, he will assuredly keep on to its close. We shall present a few passages, culled from 'here and there,' and let them indicate what' The News' is:

"THE NEWS! It needs a double set of chimes
To ring the changes on the passing times.
When morning's dues to toilet claims are paid,
The daily paper must be next surveyed.

With eager glance we run the columns through,
Skip the old jokes and fly to what is new;
Rush like a rocket through the leaded lines,
Where editorial dulness feebly shines,
And at one mouthful seize the charming square,
Which last night's telegraph filtered through the air;
Those taking paragraphs, condensed and curt,
That tell us twelve were killed, and forty hurt;
Announce tremendous news from foreign lands,
That almost shakes the paper from your hands.
Its half-a-column spreads before your eyes
Astounding facts, and more astounding lies:
One look conveys you over half the globe,
One dip suffices Europe's heart to probe:
Profoundest secrets from star-chambers ooze
And lie before you, labelled 'latest news!'

'Or should the reader mingle with such flocks,
His restless eye falls on the price of stocks;
Doubtful, to part with those he now has got,
Or plunge still deeper for a larger lot:
A speculative vein pervades his soul,
As ten-foot strata do a mine of coal;
But how his sympathetic soul will shrink,
When the great coal-vein dwindles into ink:
His purse collapses, as if wrenched with pain;
He blames the brokers and begins again!'

Here is another phase of 'the news,' which business-men in cities will at least understand, and which is not of the most pleasant kind in the world, particularly of a very hot day in mid-summer :

'THE news, that vibrates on the human heart,
Of our existence forms a goodly part;

The earnest tension which it lends to nerves

A double purpose to the system serves;
We know its strange effects upon the mind;
Makes some men see, and some men very blind.
But it goes further, and a drop of ink,
Adroitly used, makes precious metals sink.
For instance, Banks-excuse me if I'm wrong-
As telegraphs decide are weak or strong.

I don't mean 'banks whereon the wild thyme grows,'
Nor fishing-banks-nor banks of winter snows;
But banks that discount, and that issue bills,
Those interesting, check-reined paper-mills.
If Wall-street skies are slightly overcast,
Our chilled directors feel the icy blast;

Let but a gale rouse Wall-street's hungry sharks,
And country-cousins spread their nets for larks.
The money-dealers instigate a fright,
And all is wrong that yesterday was right.

'Some honest dealer wants a little loan:
His paper's good, the surety well known:
With blandest tones that SHYLOCK might beguile,
And smiling face-all needy borrowers smile!
He states his case, and waits with hat in hand,
For the amount -the avails- you understand.
But oh! the change in his lugubrious face!
The smile is nipped-a scowl is in its place;
He hears the words: 'We're very short to-day;
All over-drawn, and called upon to pay:
Our circulation too, comes back so fast,
We must prepare to meet the coming blast;
You've read the tidings by the telegraph?

Of course we don't believe them more than half;

And yet the news looks very, very bad;

If we had funds of course we should be glad:

But-but-in short we 're short! hard up, my friend,

And really have no money left to lend:

It goes against our feelings to refuse,

But then this morning's mails bring such bad news!"

'And so our bothered borrower turns away,
Wondering how he his blessed note shall pay:
Moreover thinking-folks, you know, will think!
How short a time it takes for gold to shrink.
The man has heard of shipwrecked Argosies,
Of untold hoards whelmed in the gulfing seas;
Of fires that in a single night consumed
The wealth of cities, ne'er to be exhumed.
Such are the cases he can comprehend,
The value was destroyed-and so an end:
But why a rumor, or a startling fact,
Should like a grand annihilator act,
Collapsing bank-vaults, burying their gold,
Ere yet the breath that brought the news is cold,
Requires more explanation. So, with brow
Half-sad, half-pensive, he repeats his bow,
Hastens to leave so poor a neighborhood;
Walks down the street in meditative mood,
And wishes from his soul, a lightning stroke
Had fused the wires and the connection broke,
So that the news might thus have been delayed
Until new discounts his old note had paid.'

JEWELRY AND THE PRECIOUS STONES. BY HIPPONAX ROSET. Philadelphia: JOHN PENINGTON AND SON.

How many objects there are which we encounter at every turn in everyday life, and which interest us, which we see, give, and take with pleasure, yet of which we know literally nothing. How many curiosities are there, say, for instance, of confectionery, which in their invention evoked the ingenuity of dukes, prime-ministers, and royal favorites, yet which are seldom spoken of save with regard to their intrinsic qualities. And yet, as HEINE remarks, 'How much more delicious does a dish taste when we are familiar with its historical associations!' So with clothing, and so with gems, which, in the volume before us, really seem to acquire an additional lustre by the glittering, vivid descriptions of the author.

'Jewelry and Precious Stones' is a work which, though from the quaint and curious learning which it contains, merits a place among the curiosities of literature, is still a book which must meet with an extensive sale, because it so abundantly fulfils the bookseller's requisition of being devoted to a subject which interests every one, and from treating it in a familiar style which comes home to every reader. Is there a lady who, if 'posted up' on the history and quality of the gems which she wears, would be likely to forget such facts, or to repeat them when exhibiting her 'parure?' Or is there a gentleman in these days of renaissance of sleeve-buttons and of shirt-studs, who would not like to be able to give a few anecdotes in society relative to gems? What an opportunity does a little information of the kind give to draw attention to his own brilliants and display his own brilliancy! How many a youth, desperately hunting around for a subject for small talk, might feel himself armed and equipped were he but posted up on the contents of the work to which we refer, and in which HIPPONAX ROSET, with the tact of a true ladies' man, has narrated just what must please the ladies on this allimportant subject!

We remember years ago to have met with the following in the ' Odd Volume,' which illustrates most aptly the nature of the contents of the work to which we refer. HIPPONAX ROSET, as the author of 'Jewelry and Precious Stones,' anagramatically calls himself, must have had the following in his mind's eye, else is it a prophecy:

'A HINT TO JEWELLERS. It is surprising that our jewellers, who deal in the precious things of this world, should, at the same time, deal so little in sentiment, never calling up the wonder-working aid of fancy. They sell us rings, bracelets, diadems, cestuses, and so on, composed of rare stones, without once alluding to their allegories, relations, or symbols. Now no less a personage than Pope INNOCENT himself may be said to give them a precedent for the future exercise of their genius; for when Cardinal LANGTON was made Archbishop of Canterbury, by the intrigues of the POPE, whose creature he was, in despite of King JOHN, to appease the latter, his holiness presented him with four golden rings, set with precious stones; and enhanced the value of the gift, by in forming him of the many mysteries implied in it. 'He begged of him (JOHN) to consider seriously the form of the rings, their number, their matter, and their colors. Their form, he said, being round, shadowed out eternity, which had neither beginning nor

end; and he ought thence to learn his duty of aspiring from earthly objects to heavenly, from things temporal to things eternal. The number, four, being a square, denoted steadiness of mind, not to be subverted either by adversity or prosperity, fixed for ever on the firm basis of the four cardinal virtues. Gold, which is the matter, being the most precious of metals, signified wisdom, which is the most precious of all accomplishments, and justly preferred, by SOLOMON, to riches, power, and all exterior attainments. The blue color of the sapphire represented faith; the verdure of the emerald, hope; the redness of the ruby, charity; and the splendor of the topaz, good works.' Now if by these conceits his holiness, Pope INNOCENT, (who was not in the jewelry line,) endeavored to repay JOHN for one of the most important prerogatives of his crown, which he had ravished from him, then how much more does it behove RUNDELL and BRIDGE, HAMLET, JEFFERIES, and others, (with whom, alas! we have little dealings,) to leave off calling a ring a ring, and to call up all those associations of thought, that display of imagination, in the display of their goods, wherein the purchaser may receive more satisfaction, and the seller an extra fifty per cent!'

In 'Jewelry and the Precious Stones,' the reader will find precisely the kind of information sighed for by the humorist above cited. Not only does the author give the history, chemical qualities, and tables for calculating the value of gems, but dipping into the abstruser mysteries of his favorites, he regales us with the quaint superstitions which in old times attached to them. The book is well written, by a profound scholar, evidently con amore, and will in our opinion be found a desirable gift, either by itself or as a companion to a set of jewels.

MEN AND TIMES OF THE REVOLUTION: Or Memoirs of ELKANAH WATSON: including Journals of Travels in Europe and America, from 1797 to 1842: with his Correspondence with Public Men, and Reminiscences and Incidents of the Revolution. Edited by his Son, WINSLOW C. WATSON. In one volume: pp. 460. New-York: DANA AND COMPANY.

This work rolls back the tide of years, and almost places the reader in the very shoes of the writer. It is a volume of wonderful interest, not only from the deeds and events recorded, but from the admirably graphic and simple manner in which they are presented. Mr. WATSON, from the age of nineteen to near the close of his life, which was protracted to more than four-score years, was in the habit of recording his observations of men and incidents, as the events occurred to which they relate. This period embraced the epoch of the War of Independence, and of those amazing mutations which have marked the transformation of independent colonies into a mighty nation ; and of a rude and sequestered wilderness into a territory teeming with beauty, cultivation, and affluence. In Europe and in America he was in the midst of the scenes of this pregnant era, an intimate associate with many of the individuals who impelled or guided these changes, and a vigilant observer of the occurrences connected with their development.

Much of the memoir, or journal, was revised by the elder WATSON; and his son appears to have continued his labors with almost equal success. The extraordinary and perilous journey of Mr. WATSON, in the very crisis of the Revolution, from Massachusetts to Georgia; his subsequent expedition from New-England to North-Carolina, soon after its termination; his travels, at a later period, in newly-occupied territories; and his explorations of dis