One of the best magazine árdeles on lee Yachting that lint appeured in five years is from tlie pen of Col. Charles L. Norton of the University Club, Nv York, in Outing for Februury. It is fully illustrated with diagrams relatint? to construction aud rig. A eopy of the Tribune Almanao for 1886 which is just out bas been received :tt this otflee. Tliis was one of the hobbies of Mr. Qreeley, and it became ander hini what it lias been ever since- au nccepted authority In regard to the general electlon returns and the important statistios of the country. The number for 18S0 eoiitains compete and carefully preparad tables, showing in great detail the cóinage oíom and silver, the production of those metáis, etc. The list et' the neif Congress and the Committees wlll be consulted with interest, as will also the statement ot the new postare lates, and the statisties of foreipn trade iiudor the opuration of the new turIffliiw. The general information oí the Almanac is preseuted in great variety; and as a hanüy book of easy ivference, it is a work which every citizen ouj;)it to have l'rice, :!0 cents a eopy. Turkish girlsou the island if l'rinkapo, near Constanlinople wcre juite entlni-iastic over their tirst view of the bicyele. In Thomas Stevens's articli in the February Outing, they are thusquoted: "0 Bizdan kayaore ghyurulduzug cm nczahetti sadi bir dakika utchum tjhyuriorus nazamun bir dab backiorus 0 bitlum yitinush." (He glides uoiselessly and (fracefully past ; we see him only for u inoment; when we look again he is quite gone.) The men wereof courge lesspoetical, their ileas running more to the practical siile of the possibilities of the new arnva!, and theycommented as follows: "Onum I giir hicli-bir-nhey ycmiore h eh-bir-niey icimiore hich yorumliore ma sheitan yibi óhit'vir,." (HU horse he eats nothing, driuks nöthing, nevergets tired, and goe-s like the very devil.) Mesara. Ticknor & Co. start oll' Ui iel y iu the line of illustmted books witli a bëautiful eüition of Childe Harold'i PllgWiuage, npoii whlch niné of our most accomplUhpil ilrauhteniRn andseven of our most skilful wood-engravers Imve expeuded the resources of their art. Oompairaons are odlous, as we all know, and we sliall not indulge in them by coiup:irIng this illustrated edition of a favoiite poc-t wlth auy other ilhiitrated edition of any other favorite poet. What we will say however, is that given our choice between this poem and any other poein, or poems, that have been, or are likely to be, published during the present season, we should give the others the go by, and select this, not mercly as the most to our wpecial taste, hut as one of the noblest and greatest poema In the whole range of English poetry. It is not the fashion to admire Byron now, and it s thü fashion to pretend to admire Wordsworth. One may admire both without iiistitutingcomparisons uetween them, and for Wordsworth'g sake they never ahould be Instituted, for the author of Peter Bell was a poet of one order and the author of Childe Harold was u poet of another and a miich higher order, ns every reader of Byron feela, ia „pite of all that Mr. Bwinburne, and Mr. Arnold, and the rest of the Wordiworthians may say to the contrary. He Is the greatest elemcntul force in English song since Marlowe, and not to know this is to have read all the poets that come betweeu the two in vain. There Is a wild, fiery, passionate life in hi work even when it is most careless wliich 110 other English poet except Shakespeare ever attained, and it is refreshing to turn from the linickin, elabórate, rococo, make-believe tmh of the prusent period to his manly and inagiiiticent poetry. He is at bis jíreatest, we think, in the third and fourth cantos of Childe Harold, who as an ideal creation was fitly descrlbed by Shelley as the Pilgrim of Eteniity. llow uubly he nrote let a couple of stanzas show : O Rome ! my country I city of the soul ! The oiphans of the heart must turn to tbM, Louc mothers ot dead empire [ and cintnl In their shut bruasts tluir petty misery. What are our woes and suttcrancc? Come and ivc The cyprels. hrar the owl, and plod your wav O'er steps of bruken throncs ind temples, ye ' Whosc agonics ;ire cvils oí a day- A world is at our feet ;is fngalc as our clay. The Niobc of nations, Iherc she stands Childless and crownlcss, Ui her voicc-less woc; An empty urn within her withercJ hands, Whose holy dust was scattered lonjf ago ; The Scipios' tomb conlains no ashes now ; Thf vcry scpulclircs lic MMntlMM Of their hcroic dweller ; dost thou llow Oíd Tibcr, through a marblc wildt-rness ? Risc, with thy yeliow wavcs, and maulle her distraul The illustrations in Ibis bcautiful edition of Ctiilde Harold are not lu the fantustic art manuer of the period, but are conceived and executed in the good, oldfashioned, manly style that chiiracterized the best days of draw ing and eriffraving. Ttiey are for the most part bcautiful, and when they do not reach that ideal excellence taey are In all cases picturesquo and iutelligent. There are no crotchets In them, for the artists wlio made them were content to lllnstriitc the text In the direct method in which it was written. From the nature of the poem tliiy are largely landscapes, the special features of èach verse belng happily caught witb artistic gradations of llrht aud simde. Taken as a whole, the effect they have upon the iiiind is one of simple, serene loveliness. And they have a quality which we miss in inuch of the black and white work of to-day - they will bear looking at more tban once. They sbould be studied as Childe Harold sbould be read, over aod over again.