for his eonduct in the chair." This was carried unanimously, and acknowledged briefly. The meeting then separated, the proprietors much gratified with the position of the company.

ENGINEERS', MASONIC, AND UNIVERSAL MUTUAL LIFE ASSURANCE SOCIETY.-We were led into our previous remarks from the perusal of a prospectus forwarded to us by the Engineers', Masonic, and Universal Mutual Life Assurance Society, 345, Strand. It is not our custom to call attention to any one office in preference to another, where all are working in the same tract, or nearly so, and who do not offer any particular or striking advantages; but we think it due to society at large, we think it but just to the projectors of an office such as the "Engineers," to call especial notice to the novelties offered by them, calculated to spread far and wide the blessings of Life Assurance by the liberality of their offers to the public.

Amongst the Especial Advantages we particularly noticed the following:

"Policies issued free of stamp duty to the Assured."

We all know that this tax upon prudence has deterred many a man from taking out a life policy, and the Directors have done wisely and well in being the first to break down the restriction. Other offices must follow their example if they wish to do any business.

"A policy once granted will never be disputed."

This is as it should be. Offices year after year continue to receive the premiums-the husband imagining that he has made a certain provision for his wife, the wife believing that she is secured against want if her husband should die. He does die; the office refuses to pay on account of some fraud never intended, or some mis-statement accidentally or innocently made the resources of a powerful body are brought to bear against a simple individual, and they often succeed in evading payment altogether; here it is otherwise-no dispute can arise after a policy has been once granted.

"To the artisan policies are granted from 207.; premiums payable monthly.

"Credit given for half the premiums during life.

"The whole of the profits divided amongst the Assured.

"A certain return of one-third of all premiums paid in, if the Assured wishes to discontinue his policy.

"In cases of continued sickness, or inability from other causes to keep up the policy, the whole sum paid in will be returned, subject to a reasonable deduction for office management.

"Medical Referees paid in all cases.

These, and other novelties offered, have induced us to notice this office in particular, that others may follow so good an example. Liberality will always obtain the patronage of the public, provided it is based, as we think it is here, on security. Let every man, therefore, consider his circumstances, and make provision accordingly without delay; he will then have the proud satisfaction of knowing that he has performed an important duty to himself, to his family, and to the community at large; his life will be a life of peace and contentment; his death mourned by the surviving relatives, long after the heart that loved them shall have ceased to beat.-Era.

ENGINEERS', MASONIC, AND UNIVERSAL MUTUAL LIFE ASSURANCE SOCIETY. A meeting of this society was held in the board-room, 345,

VOL. VI.

3 T

Strand. The whole of the policy holders were invited. The unfavourable state of the weather prevented many from attending, but about sixty sat down to an early supper, admirably provided by Mr. Bacon, of the Freemasons' Tavern. The object of the Directors was to introduce the policy-holders to each other, and to receive a report of the affairs of the society, which were clearly stated to be most favourable. The number of policies issued very far exceeded expectation, and the prospects were most promising. The Chairman, Mr. Dobson, DeputyChairman, Dr. Crucefix, Professor Ansted, Dr. Johnson, and other gentlemen, delivered addresses and entered into the minutia of Life Assurance, vital statistics, and all collateral subjects, with much animation, which their auditors evidently appreciated by the most rivetted attention.-Post Magazine.

A careful perusal of the prospectus will satisfy the most fastidious and critical observer, that this Mutual Life Society is perfectly unselfish, that it is established upon the broadest principles of philanthropy; and on that account, if upon no other, it merits the confidence of the humbler as well as the support of the wealthier classes. One fact will attest that its importance is not altogether unappreciated-for within six months of its establishment, upwards of two hundred policies have been effected. The Registrar, we understand, has expressed his warm approbation of the deed of this society.

PUBLIC LECTURE, Dec. 20,-A lecture on the practical advantages of Life Assurance, was delivered by Mr. Frederic Lawrance, to the operatives in the employ of Mr. Smith, in Long Acre, which was received with marked attention. It would be well if the Actuaries of all Insurance offices were engaged in similar industrial efforts to propagate the faith.

LITERARY NOTICES.

The Hand-Book of Masonry. By the Rev. G. Oliver, D.D. Spencer.

This, the latest emanation from the pen of the masonic historian, has reached us too late for present notice. It shall, however, meet our attention in the ensuing Number.

Latomia. Vol. XI., Part 11. Leipsic.

We cannot close the volume of this year without calling the attention of the Craft to the continuous publication above named, and of which we have had frequent occasion to speak. At the same time, we take the opportunity of thanking the proprietors of that periodical for its transmission to us, its pages having served us frequently with matter for translation, and have afforded our readers both instruction and amusement. We shall be glad to find it enjoying the large circulation to which its merits entitle it, for the promulgation of its doctrines will assist to extend the true principles of Freemasonry.

To the Operatives of Great Britain, on Life Assurance. By Anthony Peck, B.A.

A modest, unpretending, but highly valuable digest, addressed to the working classes, with a truthful sincerity, and, it may be hoped, with considerable effect. The higher classes should also read it as a means whereby they may perceive how great are the opportunities of doing good.

Madonna Pia, and other Poems. By J. G. Grant. Smith and Elder. To those who are familiar-as who is not?-with Dante's immortal masterpiece, the “Madonna Pia” of Mr. Grant will be especially welcome. If not informed with the severer spirit of the stern old Florentine, it is nevertheless pervaded by a pathos that is eminently Dantesque. The subdued wail of suffering humanity; the undertones in which the heart of woman-desolate and sorrowing-gives utterance to the woe which crushes it, fill every verse with sad and solemn music. In the emotion which it begets, and in the painful interest which it excites and continuously sustains, this poem may indeed compare-we had almost said take equal rank-with the "Clerke's Tale" of Chaucer, Byron's "Prisoner of Chillon," and the "Haunted House" of Hood. Less diffuse than the poem of Sestini upon the same subject, it is equally vigorous, musical in diction, and direct in the appeals it makes to the active imagination and quick sympathies of the attentive student.

The poem opens with a burst of sunshine, brief and fitful as the sunshine of an April day. The betrothal and the bridal of Pia and Pietra, fraught with the promise of a happy future, would seem to prelude all that woman's sanguine trusting heart could well desire:

"For hope and full fruition were at strife
Which should make loveliest the paths of life.
Never should hope or fear their steps divide-

Never should love in their deep hearts decay-

Never should joy or sorrow, side from side
Sever their rich affections, night or day!
Never should jealousy (the jaundice-eyed

And canker-hearted) make of them a prey
'Never, oh never!' blinding Passion cried-
'Never, oh never!' blinded Faith replied!"

But the shadow of impending sorrow darkens Madonna's path. Jealousy-causeless and hastily surmised-prompts the dark spirit of her husband to a horrible revenge. In moody silence-stern in his resolve and sullen in its execution-Pietra commands the trembling bride to take horse, and journey with him to a solitary castle in the marshes of Maremma, the hideous swamp so vividly described by the Italian:

"Acqua stagnante in paludosi fossi,
Erba nocente, che secura cresce,
Compressa fan la pigra aria di grossi
Vapor, d'onde virtù venefica esce;
E qualor più dal sol vengon percossí
Fra gli animanti rio morbo si mesce,
Il cacciator fuggendo, da lontano
Monte contempla il periglioso piano."

LA PIA DI SESTINI, Canto i. v. 5.

There she is doomed to wither in the poisonous air; and this is the picture of her prison :

"It was a cell-though not beneath the ground;

A chamber of the dark tower's middle height,
Where all of dismal gleam and mournful sound
Might sadden the lone inmate, day and night:
So high, escape might never thence be found-
So low, that the miasma's deadly blight,
The searching poison of the rank fen's air,
Should evermore find cruel entrance there.
"Oh! then her grave she saw, and heard her knell !
Horror of horrors! was it come to this?

For her sweet bridal-bower this lothly cell?
Pietra's curse for his sweet bridal kiss?
Flung to the lowest depths of earthly hell
From the last pinnacle of earthly bliss!
There were no words such agony to speak,
And it found voice in one long piercing shriek.
"Then as her prison echoes rang and rang,
A moment on Pietra's altered face
Gazing with anguish, to his breast she sprang,
As if to fold him in such fond embrace
As when upon her lip his soul would hang,

And her least sigh his stormiest mood could chace;
As if to change the vulture to the dove,
And kiss him into tenderness and love!
"But he that silently vindictive lord-

Silent as heretofore, and stern and cold,
With lifted arm, as if a blow to ward,

Or fence him from a serpent's clasping fold,
Dashed her aside-and, like a thing abhorred,

On the cold granite of the cell she rolled!
Then, turning from the wreck he had o'erthrown,
Without a glance he left her there alone.

"Alone, save thoughts that well nigh turn the brain-
That either break the heart or drive it mad,

With envy of the happier who have lain

Long in their quiet grave-cloth meetly clad:
Those dread companions, an innumerous train,
Poor lost Madonna in her dungeon had;
And lay with them upon its cold hard stones,
And nursed and fed them with her tears and groans.

1

"She rose at length, but not to rave or stamp,
Or rend distractedly her golden hair-
Slowly she rose, and round her prison damp
Looked long and pryingly, with dreadful stare.
Save a thick ropy slime from the green swamp,

Roof, walls, and pavement, all were lothly bare--
And one stern loophole, barred with jealous might,
Poured in the poisonous air and pale drear light.
"Thither she dragged-and saw the fenny grass
Sullenly wave o'er all that sullen lea;
And heard the bittern boom in the morass;

And saw the wild swan hurrying to the sea;
And dreary gleams, and drearier shadows, pass
O'er lonely wilds that lonelier could not be :
And then she turn'd, all helplessness, within,
And felt that all was helplessly akin."

In the gradual extinction of her life, the husband finds unceasing aliment for his revenge.

"Daily, for months, her prison to and fro
Implacable in silence did he come,
Implacable in silence did he go :

Oh! list, poor victim! list the bittern's hum,
List to the sullen winds without that blow,
List to whate'er drear voice comes o'er the fen-
Pietra's voice thou 'lt never list again!

But the nobility, the god-like self-denial of her womanly nature assert themselves. The husband sickens, too, wasting with the same slow waste, the same unintermitting ebb of life and strength, by which his victim is consumed.

"The canker spreading to his bud and leaf
Poor lost Madonna saw with tenfold grief-

Grief deeper far than for her own decline!

And once, when on his hands the sunbeams strook,

And she beheld how fast they 'gan to pine,

And with a tremor (not sweet Pity's!) shook,
Love conquer'd terror, with a strength divine,
That cruelty itself could not rebuke-

And she implored, with heart, and lip, and eye,
'Let not both perish !-leave me here to die !""

Finally, the inevitable hour arrives, and the damp dews of death moisten the pale forehead of the guileless victim.

"And he-the gaoler-hangman of that tower!
He to whose soul revenge was all in all,

Came to behold her, in the final hour,
Drink to its bitterest dregs her cup of gall;