The details which will be given to us by the results of this successful expedition will, then, not only be of assistance in allying the existing condition of things with the knowledge of the ancients, but it will enable us to reduce to a few facts the many contradictory statements which have originated in the variety of the sources of information, and the individual and national rivalry which the interest of the question gave birth to among the geographers of the present day.  It will also be of importance, as it was connected with a great question, as to the possibility of a large river traversing an extensive continent, or losing itself in a marsh or lake, or being buried in the extensive sands of the desert.  By laying open the interior of Africa to us, it will increase our political strength and commercial advantages on those coasts;—­it will enable us to put into practice an amelioration long contemplated by Mr. Barrow, in the choice of our settlements on those coasts;—­it will place the greatest and most important vent of the barbarous and inhuman traffic of negroes in our possession; and it will enable us to diffuse the benefits of superior intelligence among an ignorant and suffering people.—­Literary Gazette.

* * * * *

SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.

DISAGREEABLES.

BY THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD.

    “For four things the earth is disquieted, and five which it
    cannot bear.”  AGUR.

  This world is a delightful place to dwell in,
  And many sweet and lovely things are in it;
  Yet there are sundry, at the which I have
  A natural dislike, against all reason. 
  I never like A TAILOR.  Yet no man
  Likes a new coat or inexpressibles
  Better than I do—­few, I think, so well: 
  I can’t account for this.  The tailor is,
  A far more useful member of society
  Than is a poet;—­then his sprightly wit,
  His glee, his humour, and his happy mind
  Entitle him to fair esteem.  Allowed. 
  But then, his self-sufficiency;—­his shape
  So like a frame, whereon to hang a suit
  Of dandy clothes;—­his small straight back and arms,
  His thick bluff ankles, and his supple knees,
  Plague on’t!—­’Tis wrong—­I do not like a tailor.

    AN OLD BLUE-STOCKING MAID!  Oh! that’s a being,
  That’s hardly to be borne.  Her saffron hue,
  Her thinnish lips, close primmed as they were sewn
  Up by a milliner, and made water-proof,
  To guard the fount of wisdom that’s within. 
  Her borrowed locks, of dry and withered hue,
  Her straggling beard of ill-condition’d hairs,
  And then her jaws of wise and formal cast;
  Chat-chat—­chat-chat!  Grand shrewd remarks! 
  That may have meaning, may have none for me. 
  I like the creature so supremely ill,
  I never listen, never calculate. 
  I know this is ungenerous and unjust: 
  I cannot help it; for I do dislike
  An old blue-stocking maid even to extremity. 
  I do protest I’d rather kiss a tailor.