and ingenious. For instance, the truss beams, supporting the principal weight of the roof, are constructed of cast iron pipes, in a parabolic form, on the same plan as the iron bridges in France and other parts of Europe, with a view to secure lightness and strength. The Library Hall, which occupies the second floor, is one hundred feet high, and sixty wide, in the clear. The ascent from the front is by a single line of thirty-eight Italian marble steps, decorated on either side, at the entrance, by a stone sphinx. Upon nearing the summit of these steps, the visitor finds himself near the centre of this immense alcove, surrounded by fourteen brick piers, plastered and finished in imitation of marble, and supporting iron galleries, midway between the floor and the ceiling. The side walls form one continuous shelving, of a capacity sufficient for 100,000 volumes. This is reached by means of the main gallery, in connection with which are four iron spiral stairways and an intervening gallery, of a lighter and smaller description, connected by its eight staircases with the main gallery. The whole are very ingeniously arranged and appropriately ornamented, in a style corresponding with the general architecture of the building. At an elevation of fifty-one feet above the floor of the main hall, is the principal skylight, fifty-four feet long and fourteen broad, formed of thick glass set in iron. Besides this there are circular side skylights of much smaller dimensions. All needful light is furnished, by these and by the windows in the front and rear walls. Free ventilation is also secured by iron fretwork, in suitable portions of the ceiling. In the extreme rear are the two rooms for the librarian, to which access is had by means of the main galleries.

The first floor contains lecture and reading-rooms, with accommodations for five hundred persons. The latter are on each side of the building, and separated from the library-hall stairway at the front entrance by two corridors leading to the rear vestibule, and thence to the lecture-room, still further in the rear. The basement contains the keeper's rooms, cellars, coal-vaults, air-furnaces, &c. The floors are of richly-wrought mosaic work, on iron beams. The building will not be completed, probably, for nearly a year from this time, and the books collected, about 27,000, are meanwhile accessible at 32 Bond-street.

Dr. Cogswell has had printed, in an octavo volume of 446 pages, an alphabetical index to the books now collected, and of the proposed accessions. This catalogue is not published, and there are but few copies of it. The learned librarian, who sailed a few days ago on a new mission for the library, to Europe, printed it at his own cost, convinced that without some such manual it would be extremely difficult, if not impossible, in making the necessary purchases, to avoid buying duplicates, and equally difficult to select judiciously so many thousand volumes as are required. He remarks that the Astor Library is in his opinion the first of so considerable an extent that has ever been called at once into existence. "That of Gottingen, the nearest parallel, was founded more than a century ago, when the whole number of printed books was less than half the present number. Should the Astor Library ever become a parallel to that in excellence and completeness, it will be as great an honor to the new world as that to the old."

THE TEMPER OF WOMEN.

In the Lexington Papers, just published in London, we have some good anecdotes of society two hundred and fifty years ago. Here is one:

"A few days ago two ladies met in a narrow street at ten o'clock in the morning. Neither chose to permit her carriage to be drawn back, and they remained without moving for six hours. A little after twelve o'clock they sent for some refreshment for themselves and food for their horses. Each was firmly resolved to stay the night there rather than go back; and they would have done so, but a tavern-keeper in the street, who was prevented by their obstinacy from bringing to his door a cart laden with wine, went in search of the commissary of the district, who at length, but with much trouble, succeeded in effecting an arrangement upon these terms—that each should retire at the same moment, and that neither should pass through the street."

And here another, which would versify into a fine horrible ballad—as grand and ghastly as Alfred Tennyson's "Sisters:"

"The Parliament has lately confirmed the sentence of death passed on two daughters of a gentleman of Anjou, named Madaillon, for the murder of the lover of their younger sister. It appears that he was engaged to be married to the eldest sister, but deserting her, and passing over the second, he transferred his addresses to the youngest. The two eldest sisters, in revenge, invited him to play at blind man's buff, and while one bound his eyes, the other cut his throat."

And this is similar:

"In Piedmont a gentleman addressed at the same time one lady who was rich and plain, and one who was poor and very beautiful; and they, by chance becoming acquainted, exhibited to each other their correspondence with the vacillating lover, and one of them invited him to a meeting, in which after joining in reproaches, they dexterously each deprived him of an ear."

ANDREW MARVEL.

Of this Aristides of the poets, and his homes and haunts. Mrs. S. C. Hall gives us the following interesting sketches in her "Pilgrimages to English Shrines." The illustrations are from drawings by F. W. Fairholt, F.S.A.

But a few months ago we had been strolling about Palace-yard, and instinctively paused at No. 19 York-street, Westminster. It was evening; the lamplighters were running from post to post, but we could still see that the house was a plain house to look at, differing little from its associate dwellings; a common house, a house you would pass without a thought, unless the remembrance of thoughts that had been given to you from within the shelter of those plain, ordinary walls, caused you to reflect; aye, and to thank God, who has left with you the memories and sympathies which elevate human nature. Here, while Latin secretary to the Protector, was John Milton to be found when "at home;" and in his society, at times, were met all the men who with their great originator, Cromwell, astonished Europe. Just think of those who entered that portal; think of them all if you can—statesmen and warriors; or, if you are really of a gentle spirit, think of two—but two; either of whom has left enough to engross your thoughts and fill your hearts. Think of John Milton and Andrew Marvel! think of the Protector of England, with two such secretaries!

Evening had deepened into night; busy hands were closing shutters, and drawing curtains, to exclude the dense fog, that crept slowly and silently, like an assassin, through the streets; the pavement was clammy, and the carriages rushing through the mist, like huge-eyed, misshapen spectres, proved how eager even the poor horses were to find shelter; yet for a long while we stood on the steps of this building, and at length retraced our steps homeward. Our train of thought, although checked, was not changed, when seated by a comfortable fire. We took down a volume of Milton; but "Paradise Lost" was too sublime for the mood of the moment, and we "got to thinking" of Andrew Marvel, and displaced a volume of Captain Edward Thompson's edition of his works; and then it occurred to us to walk to Highgate, and once again enjoy the sight of his quaint old cottage on the side of the hill just facing "Cromwell House," and next to that which once owned for its master the great Earl of Lauderdale.

We know nothing more invigorating than to breast the breeze up a hill, with a