OSCAR WILDE'S FAIRY TALES. In the volume before us Mr. Oscar Wilde comes forward in a new and favourable light as a writer of fairy tales. 'The 'Happy Prince' and the four accompanying tales are full of graceful fancies and quaint conceits, and will afford equal pleasure to grown-up and to youthful readers. High spirits and buoyancy are not to be looked for in these stories, but the best of them are marked by pathos and poetic feeling, relieved by humorous touches, generally of a very happy kind. The two concluding tales are written in a satirical strain that borders on the cynical; but the selfishness and folly at which they are aimed are fair objects for satire. The statue of the Happy Prince stood high above the city on a tall column. ' He was gilded all over with thin leaves of fine gold, for eyes he bad two bright sapphires, and a large ruby glowed on his sword-hilt'. A swallow, off to Egypt for the winter, alighted on the statue. His rest was disturbed by the tears that fell from the eyes of the Happy Prince, weeping over a poor mother and her sick child. 'Swallow', said the Prince, who must have been a countryman of Mr. Wilde's, 'will you not bring (sic) her the ruby out of my sword-hilt?' The swallow did not like it at first, but she consented to stay and bring---or take---the ruby to the poor widow. Next day the swallow was anxious to be off, but the Prince pressed him to stay and do another kindness. [The Poor Student] ... The Selfish Giant ' The Selfish Giant' is a very happy and beautiful apologue, which is not without a present application. ... The giant got no Spring or Summer until he let the children in, It would be well if a like treatment could be applied to some giants with empty gardens not a hundred miles from Fleet-street. But the prettiest story among the number is that of 'The Nightingale and the Rose'. A young student was searching everywhere for a red rose, and could not find one. The girl he loved bad promised to dance with him if he brought her one. What, he thought, was the use of all his learning if for the want of a red rose his life was made wretched. 'Here, at last, is a true lover', said the Nightingale. 'Night after night have I sang of him, though I knew him not; night after night have I told his story to the stars, and now I see him'. And she resolved to find him a rose, even though (as it turned out) it was at the sacrifice of her life. ... The Student and the Nightingale But the young lady was hardly worthy of such a sacrifice. 'Iam afraid it will not go with my dress', she answered; 'and, besides, the Chamberlain's nephew has sent me some real jewels, and everybody knows that jewels cost far more than flowers'. So the poor student threw the rose into the gutter, and was fain to act on the advice proffered to Rousseau, to eave ladies alone and study mathematics. We must leave the reader to make further acquaintance for himself with the pleasant conceits to be found in Mr. Wilde's book; with theduck who instructed her young : ' You will never be in the best society unless you can stand on your heads'; with the remarkable rocket who knew he would make a sensation; and with the swallow of which all the Sparrows said : 'What a distinguished stranger' so that he enjoyed himself very much. The volume is very tastefully bound and printed, and is illustrated by such masters of the craft as Mr. Walter Crane and Mr, Jacomb Hood. Both its own merits and the well-known Personality of the author are likely, we imagine, to secure for [sic] it a deserved success among the lighter literature of the season.