place his figure the sculptor has deftly gone between the disputed point whether these women were blooming and wise in youth, or deeply furrowed with age and burdened with the knowledge of centuries, as Virgil, Livy, and Gellius say.  Good artistic example might be quoted on both sides.  Her forward elbow is propped upon one knee; and to keep her secrets closer, for this Libyan woman is the closest of all the Sibyls, she rests her shut mouth upon one closed palm, as if holding the African mystery deep in the brooding brain that looks out through mournful, warning eyes, seen under the wide shade of the strange horned (ammonite) crest, that bears the mystery of the Tetragrammaton upon its upturned front.  Over her full bosom, mother of myriads as she was, hangs the same symbol.  Her face has a Nubian cast, her hair wavy and plaited, as is meet.”

We hope to see the day when copies both of the Cleopatra and the Libyan Sibyl shall adorn the Capitol at Washington.

AMERICAN HORTICULTURE.

Horticulture in the United States has, except in a commercial sense, been subordinate to the pursuit of wealth.  Before man can indulge in objects of elegance and refinement, he must have secured the comforts of life:  the utile must lead the dulce, a well-stocked kitchen-garden precede the parterre.  We have now, however, in the older sections of the Union, at least, passed through the ordeal of a young nation:  elegance is following the plain and practical; the spacious mansion, with its luxurious appurtenances, is succeeding the cottage, as this in turn was the successor of the cabin.  The perception of the picturesque is a natural result of earlier steps in the path of refinement:  man may build from a vulgar ambition for distinction, but he seldom plants unless prompted by love of Nature and elevated impulses.  Lord Bacon, in his essay “Of Gardens,” says, “When ages grow to civility and elegancy, men come to build stately sooner than to garden finely; as if gardening were the greater perfection.”  A case which seems to confirm this position occurs to us.  The site of a noble building, erected for our Government, was adorned by wide-spreading trees, the growth of generations, which, after the building was completed, the architect cut down before his axe could be arrested.  On being reproached for his Vandalism, he retorted,—­ “Trees may be seen everywhere, but such a Grecian portico as that—­where?”

Among a young people like ourselves, the nursery and the market-garden hold prominent places in horticultural pursuits; the latter yields a prompt return for the investment of capital and labor, and just in proportion as demand increases, so will be the exertion to meet it.  Thus we find the markets of the cities amply supplied with every luxury of fruit and vegetable:  the seasons are anticipated by artificial means, glass is brought into requisition, and the tables of the wealthy are furnished with a profusion unknown to royalty in an earlier age.