view, as a check upon immoderate expectations, | pice of the St. Bernard was six tenths higher than the pupils will nevertheless find that increase of usual. A similar effect was observed on other knowledge will bring them many moral as well as heights throughout the length and breadth of the material advantages.

Alps, from which the inference is, that the lowest THE Rev. Mr. Bowditch's apparatus for improving portion of Central Europe, was invaded by a straparts of Switzerland, as well as of a considerable gas-light is attracting attention. Dr. Crace Calvert tum of cold air, which did not reach to a great elementioned it in one of his Cantor lectures last ses-vation. It was as if the cold air, gradually forsaking sion; and it has been tried with satisfactory results the summits, sank lower and lower, until at last, in by experimentalists in different parts of the country. the month of February, it covered only the places Briefly, the apparatus may be described as a tight below eight hundred metres of elevation. This fact metallic vessel, containing oil, or naphthalin, or what- exemplifies in a striking manner the advantage of ever hydrocarbon may be used. The gas enters by observations taken simultaneously over a wide extent one opening, passes across the surface of the liquid, of country. Had M. Plantamour not been able to takes up its vapor, and escapes by another opening draw his data from sixty different stations, he would to feed the burner. As the flame is placed below have failed to discover the limits of the bitterly cold the vessel or holder, the contents are vaporized; layer of air that settled down upon his country. hence the passing gas finds material already prepared for enriching the light. The amount of im- ANOTHER interesting meteorological fact is comprovement is remarkable; for, with the addition of municated by a resident at Malta in a letter on the about thirty grains only of naphthalin vapor to one cholera. Having carefully looked at the therfoot of gas, the light is increased seven or eight mometer during the last three months," he writes, times. With oil, the result is lower, not exceeding "I could not perceive that the cholera was in any from four to five times; but even this is an impor-way influenced by the weather, from whatever quartant gain. Mr. Bowditch has made numerous experiments at his residence at Wakefield, and among the practical conclusions which he has worked out, the following may be selected as highly satisfactory; namely, that with his apparatus, one gallon of oil worth two shillings will produce one thousand feet of coal-gas such as is used in London, more light than would be given by four thousand feet of gas; the cost being in the one case six shillings and sixpence, in the other eighteen shillings.

POSSESSORS of metallic antiques will perhaps be willing to pay attention to the conclusions of a commission appointed by the Italian government to consider a question of art. An application was made for leave to take a model in wax and plaster of the bronze bas-reliefs on the great door of the baptistery of St. John at Florence, -a work by the famous artist Ghiberti. The authorities fearing the effect of the moulds and pressure on the bronze, appointed a commission, as above stated, to consider the question. The conclusion they have come to is, that while the modern way of modelling is devoid of some of the objections to which the old method was liable, it, on the other hand, is open to objections of another kind. These are,- -a certain amount of injury to the fine lines occasioned by the pressure, and the still more injurious result, namely, the removal of the tint which forms on the surface of bronze, and imparts to it the rich and peculiar effect so highly prized by artists and amateurs. That tint, or thin film of oxide, is carried off with the mould which has been in contact with the surface. This conclusion has been, it is said, confirmed in a very positive manner by chemical science; consequently, the owners of valuable bronzes will do well to deny leave to take models until some perfectly innocuous method of modelling shall have been discovered.

ter the wind was blowing. Whether it came from the north or south, with a damp sirocco, or in a fresh westerly breeze, the grievous epidemic continued its onward course, sometimes advancing with the wind, and then against it. Throughout the whole suminer, there have been no clear and cloudless skies, but, on the contrary, a heavy mist, which neither a strong wind, burning sun, a full moon, thunder, lightning, nor rain could dissipate."

EUGENIE DE GUÉRIN.*

We have known a crushing calamity impress the outward character of a man. We have seen a sudden change of fortune not only darken the heart and countenance with the gloom of despair, but roughen the tone and stiffen the manner of those who had seen happier and brighter days. Such men bear about them the visible symbols of their sufferings. In more senses than one can they adopt the language of the Roman poet:—

"Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis."

We regret to say the journal of this pious and gifted authoress has met a similar fate at the hands of her translator. Her clear and beautiful style is not reflected, and her happiest thoughts are too often eclipsed in the English version now before us. What was elegant, neat, and touching in French, has become too often awkward, stiff, and even nonsensical in English. Though some of the finest passages are really well rendered, they appear to bear unmistakable traces of another and weaker hand; and we are constrained to say that this is, without exception, the worst translation in any language we have ever read. The fact is the more to be regretted because the original work deserves a good translation.

66

In four hundred and sixty pages we find a hundred mistranslations and maltranslations. In the PROFESSOR PLANTAMOUR of Geneva has published a paper On the Distribution of Temperature your," "thou" and "you," where the singular same sentence we very often have " thy" and over the Surface of Switzerland during the Winter of number only is implied by the context. This, how1863-1864, which abounds in particulars of impor-ever, is very venial when compared with other vatance to meteorologists, from among which we select one which describes an extraordinary phenomenon. garies of the translator, such as the following, for Under ordinary circumstances, the temperature falls example: "I looked at her chairs, her furniture all in proportion as we ascend a height; but in January deranged"; "A knock makes itself heard"; of 1864, while at Geneva, the cold was three de- Journal of Eugénie de Guérin. Edited by G. S. TREBUTIKY. grees lower than usual, the temperature at the hos-London: Simpkin, Marshall, & Co.

"De

fection is a passion that consumes many lives"; "This page is thee"; "To-day my whole soul turns from the sky to a tomb, for on it, sixteen years ago, my mother died at midnight," &c. With reference to the last quotation, we should observe that the translator tells us, in two other passages, close to this, that the good lady "died in her bed," - a much more appropriate place, we take it, than "a tomb." Such are a few out of many faults which lead us to regret that such a translator as this has thus dared (to use his own words) "to write and pour out mere turbidity."

ment to her home, to her household duties, her religion, her aged father, the sick, the poor, and the children of the village, and especially to that long-absent, dearly-beloved brother Maurice, for whom this journal was evidently written. Yet we are bound to confess that her strong point becomes a very weakness, when carried to the extent described by her own language. She is indifferent to all "externals," to all and everything beyond this magic circle of her village and her home; "such things are not worth mentioning, unless they echo within, like the knocker on the door." Her passionate regard for pets, dogs, fowls, and birds, occasionally borders on the extreme. Such attachments, however, are pardonable, compared with the extravagance in which she forgets her God in her confessor, nay, even regards him as a god. We will quote her own words on the sad subject of confession:

:

The duty of a translator is to transfer from one language to another neither more nor less than he finds in the original; and to do this efficiently he should understand, not only the language from which he translates, but that also into which he translates. He should regard himself as dealing with an equation, and take care that the symbols on the one side are exactly equivalent to the symbols on the other side. If, in addition to this perfect accuracy, which must be the solid foundation of all good translation, the very style and manner of the author is embodied and represented, the more valuable and truthful does the translation become. M. G. S. Trebutien, the translator of our authoress, has evidently mis-mate confidant, its physician, its master, its light; taken his vocation. Whatever he may know of the tongue of France, he has everywhere throughout this volume given us the strongest evidence, under his own hand and seal, that he is deplorably ignorant of the idioms, and even the grammatical structure, of our language. He has robbed this interesting lady of her national and native robes, which fitted her so well, and in which she looked so charming and so fascinating; and has introduced her to England in garments of coarser texture, inferior workmanship, and outlandish fashion.

Mdlle. de Guérin should have met with a happier fate on her introduction to English readers. She was worthy of better auspices. If we carefully analyze her character from her own thoughts, feelings, and the little incidents of her daily life, as set down here before us, we must come to think well of her. She was a consistent and devoted daughter of the Church of Rome, with nothing of the bigotry and bitter sectarian spirit that sometimes inflames the passions of Roman Catholics. We doubt whether the teaching of any Church could have infused the virus of intolerance and uncharitableness into a bosom so gentle and loving by nature.

Throughout the whole volume not a single word of bitterness or unkindness escapes her, even in circumstances and trials of the most irritating character. Her eyes ever rest upon the silver lining of the darkest cloud. Passionately fond of the beauty and grandeur of Nature, her eye sees in it only the beauty and majesty of God; the magic of the moonlight and the glory of the sun are the delight of her heart, "that loves everything that comes down from Heaven." In the fair landscape of Christmas snow she hears the music of another world, and sees the angels chanting the news of the Redeemer's birth to the shepherds of Bethlehem. The strength and objects of her attachment are at times singular. She not only "loves all who love God, and fears not those who fear Him," but becomes indissolubly attached to her home, its rooms, and its furniture, and cannot bear even for a day to be absent from "the dear old family clock, which has struck all the years of her life."

Now, this heavenly friend I have in M. Bories: hence the tidings of his departure profoundly afflict me. I am sad with a sadness which makes the soul weep. I should not say this elsewhere; it would be taken ill, and, perhaps, would not be understood. The world does not know what a confessor is to one: the man who is the friend of the soul, its most intihe who binds us and looses, who gives us peace, who opens the gates of heaven; to whom we speak upon our knees, calling him, as we do God, our Father; nay, faith makes him in very deed God and Father to us. When I am at his feet, I see in him only Jesus listening to the Magdalen, and forgiving her much because she has loved much. Confession is but the expansion of repentance into love."

We have in these pages the outpourings of a soul which drank deep at the inspiring fountains of Bossuet, Fénélon, Pascal, and St. Augustine, and we listen to her sad and soothing strains, coming from and appealing to our common redeemed humanity, we would listen to the song of the nightingale.' Every page of this journal testifies the deep devotion of her tender and passionate soul to religion and poetry, and the aim of her life is thus marked out by her own adopted words:

as

66

"They say that life is hard to bear,
My God, it is not so to me;
Two angels, Poetry and Prayer,
Like sister's love, like mother's care,
Cradle and keep it pure for thee."

She ever felt a "mysterious attraction between heaven and herself," and "that God wanted her," and "she wanted God." Her religion was no mere profession; it was rich in flower and fruit, and was a blessing to all around her: it was no sounding sentiment, but a deep, absorbing passion, filling her whole soul and directing the actions and energies of her life to the glory of God and the good of man, in humility and faith in the merits and mediation of her Saviour. It is pleasant to hear such language as this from a devout and accomplished Roman Catholic of the nineteenth century: "I could never understand the security of those who have nothing to depend upon in appearing before God except good conduct and human relations, as though all our duties were included within the narrow circle of this world. To be a good father, good son, good citizen, good brother, does not suffice to make us enter heaven. God requires other merits than these sweet heart-virtues from one whom He designs to We are bound to admire her unvarying attach-crown with a glorious eternity."

A Journal of Choice Reading,

SELECTED FROM FOREIGN CURRENT LITERATURE.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 3, 1866.

In the same century with Machamuth, the great-admirals, and officers of every grade. Just as this est potentate of Europe voluntarily vacated a throne which thousands would have risked their lives to

several colonies in Central America, and was anxious a few years ago to regain its hold on that territory. Colonel Fancourt, the British governor of Belize, in the Gulf of Honduras, laid hands on a barbarous Cacique, and haled him to Government House. While fully expecting to be bastinadoed, the chief was told that he was forthwith to be proclaimed king! A proclamation was jabbered to the natives, and a throne prepared in the Governor's drawing-room with the help of a sugar-hogshead. There sat the king of the Mosquitos, arrayed in a new pair of trousers and a clean shirt. An act of investiture was read, and a crown of gilt paper was placed on his swarthy brows. The merchants of Belize were present at the coronation, and the new king, having received the largess of a few reals, caroused with his subjects till past midnight, and was found the next morning dead drunk on the floor. His name, however, was enrolled among the lords of mankind, and "the kingdom of the Mosquitos was duly established under the protectorate of Great Britain!

DADDY DODD.

JOHN BEADLE was an honest man, with a large family and a small shop. It was not a hopeful circumstance in John's position that, while his family kept on enlarging, the shop obstinately maintained its contracted dimensions; that, while there seemed to be no bounds to the race of Beadle, the business which maintained them was strictly limited. John's shop was situated in one of the many by-streets, with no main thoroughfare among them, which constitute Somers Town, and it was devoted to the sale of coals and vegetables. As a householder, John, though in a small way of business, was a person of some importance, inasmuch as he was the sole lessee of an entire tenement. It was something to boast of in that neighborhood, but not much; for the roof which John called his own was a broken-backed roof, and covered only one floor besides the basement, which "formed the emporium. The tenement seemed to be fast sinking into the earth. The impression of the beholder was that one story had already sunk, and that the others were rapidly following it; so that it seemed probable that in a few years there would be nothing visible but the broken-backed roof lying flat on the spot, a monument of departed commerce in coals. Meantime, by the agency of two upright beams and one transverse one, the broken-backed roof was kept over the heads of John and his family.

There is something very curious in a king of the Sandwich Islands writing a preface to the Book of Common Prayer. Yet the late King Hawaii actually did this, and it is now published and sold as a tract by the Christian Knowledge Society.

There is nothing more uncommon than a throne divided by mutual consent. The Emperors of the East and West had distinct spheres of government, and their thrones were separated by wide continents and seas. But Siam is, at this moment, under a divided monarchy, two thirds of the royal power being wielded by the first, and one third by the second king. Each of these is a man of cultivated mind. Even the second speaks pure English, has a library filled with European books, and workshops for making scientific and mechanical instruments. But he is somewhat eclipsed by his brother, who, while a usurper held the throne, assumed the character of a Buddhist priest, and devoted his time to study. He has mastered Sanscrit and Pali, writes his autobiography in Latin, and speaks English with the precision of a scholar. Faithful to the traditions of the East, he has three hundred wives, and considers this a moderate allowance, seeing that his father had seven hundred. He laughed heartily when our envoy, Sir John Bowring, told him that in England we are contented with one. It is curious to see him seated on his throne, with "all the wealth of Ormus and of Ind" sparkling in his crown and on his vestments, while the nobles of the land, in garments of gold, lie on all fours, with their faces nearly touching the ground, prostrate before his raised sceptre. But it is more curious still to follow him into one of his private apartments, and there see him, as Sir John Bowring did, divested of every ornament, sitting with his youngest child, a girl of five years old, on his knee, her body painted the color of gold, and a chaplet of fragrant white flowers round her head.

The fact is, that in one particular kings differ from the rest of mankind. Being more loosened than others from restraint, and less exposed to the influence of public opinion, their individuality develops fast. The sharp outlines of their character, moral and intellectual, are less worn down than those of their subjects. Their will is generally their law; and hence, no less than from their exalted position, they become, for good or ill, the most picturesque, or, as the case may be, grotesque curiosities which history offers to our view.

John's family consisted of his wife Martha, seven children, and Martha's old father. All these, including the old man, who was past work, and utterly without means of his own, were dependent upon the exertions of John, aided, when urgent family affairs would permit, by his wife. John's exertions were divided between chopping firewood, taking out hundreds (more frequently half-hundreds) of coals on a truck, and "moving." The occupation of "moving" may be described as going to houses about quarter-day, wrestling with chests of drawers, sofas, four-post bedsteads, and other heavy articles of furniture, and getting very little money, but a good deal of beer. If John had been a pelican of the wilderness he might have nourished his family upon beer for a week after a moving; but he was only a man, and could do little more than find them a bit of supper with the single shilling which was generally all his reward in available currency.

-

The door and the window of the shop being always open, the nature and extent of John's stock in trade were patent to the world. It consisted of about a ton of coals, which generally ran small,— heaped up in a corner, a little pile of firewood, a few strings of onions, a few bunches of greens, a basket or two of potatoes, a box of red herrings, a bottle of peppermint-stick alluringly displayed with some marrowless nuts and wizened apples on a board outside the window, and a bed-wrench. This last instrument was a wonderful auxiliary to John's other resources. While the two upright beams and the single transverse beam were the support of the emporium architecturally, the bed-wrench was the prop of the emporium commercially. It was a thing not to be bought, but borrowed; and the charge for the loan of the bed-wrench was twopence. Chaldron Street was given to borrowing, and it seemed to be a street which did not lie easy in its bed, for it was always taking its bed down. and putting its bed up again, the result being that John's bed-wrench was in constant and urgent demand.

One half of John's shop was occupied by the