doctor is notably direct and peremptory in the expression of his opinions, whether in public or private. He seems himself to take it for granted that he is the honest, well-meaning man that he is, and will not require ceremonious attempts at conciliation. This fact is, we think, the solution of his power over the good-will of all around him. All men like a straightforward, unceremonious, whole-hearted, upright man. Every heart cries out, when such a man appears, "Let him be heard, whether for or against us." Would that polemical or political controversialists would learn this lesson! The scribbler from whom we have quoted above (and who, by-the-way, waxes quite free with the old author's gray hairs) describes him as he appeared at the late General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church. He says: "While we write, he is 'on his legs,' making a set speech on Dr. Durbin's report, in favor of a more thorough and independent organization of our African Mission. He is stout in person, but not corpulent; his chest and shoulders are remarkably well formed, constituting a bust for a sculptor. Otherwise his person is not without awkwardness, and a lack of sufficient pantaloon length-a custom, or costume, in which he seems doggedly to persist-fails to afford any relieving grace. He appears to fancy exceedingly this latter peculiarity, and often seems to be trying to promote it, by zealously twitching up the abbreviated leggins. The doctor's head is one of the finest in the Conference. It is posed well above his fine shoulders; it is perfectly white, and is symmetrically developed. His forehead is high, and quite prominently protuberant in the phrenological region of 'locality.' This indication is, in fine, one of his most marked features. His eyes are blue, and mild in their expression; his nose large, (the usual accompaniment of a very generous heart;) his mouth expressive of gentleness and benevolence. His face is long; but its whole contour is interesting, by its expression of intelligence, sentiment, and hearty vigor. There is, however, one morbid indication incessantly playing over it—but adding, if possible, to its agreeable expression. He is affected by a slight attack of St. Vitus's dance, or some similar nervous disorder, which keeps his features almost continually twitching; it is some times quite ludicrous. This morning he has occupied a short time a seat on the platform; and for a few minutes, as he seemed to be surveying the Conference, his head and features were in redoubled motion. He appeared to be nodding most complacently to the whole assembly in detail. We heard once of a rencounter which he had while crossing the Ohio, in a ferry-boat, at Pittsburgh, and which came near being something more than ludicrous. It so happened that a fellow-passenger, sitting opposite to him, was troubled with the same affection. They caught each other's eye, and, as might be expected under such circumstances, twitched away more violently than ever. The stranger took the good doctor's grimaces as a wanton insult of his misfortune, and began to defy him. The doctor's Irish spunk was momentarily roused, and with exasperated twitching, he challenged him to come on.' Neither of them, however, got overboard, we believe; the contest was conducted only with words and twitchings. An explanation soon followed, and they twitched away in harmony the rest of the passage. This is a current story,' perhaps exaggerated as usual. The doctor is hearty in all his sentiments. He hates heartily as well as loves heartily-but we know of nothing that he hates save the Devil and the Pope. We believe he would shout to see St. Peter's, the Vatican, the Pope, and all his cardinals blown up to heaven, even if St. Peter should shake his keys at them in defiance, and send them in the opposite direction. He ardently pleads for a mission to Rome. We heartily second his motion, provided he shall be sent thither himself. God bless the good old man!" Apart from the badinage of this description-which fails not, however, to help the illustration of its subject, and is congruous to the bonhomie of the doctor-there is, in the generous nature, the long and faithful services in many hard, ministerial fields, the able writings and venerable years of this noble old Methodist preacher, much to secure to him through life the respect and endearment of his Church, and, after death, a permanent place in its memory. He has "fought a good fight," and fights still, bravely, at his post. His youthful energy and usefulness know no abatement; and it is evident that he will enter heaven at last under the impulse of an unslackened activity. Editor's Table. THE irregularity of the arrival of the "National," complained of by our exchanges, we have endeavored thoroughly to remedy. If it is found by any of our brethren of the press to recur, we solicit from them immediate information. We value too highly their courtesies to fail of any reciprocation of them. Our sketches, biographical and critical, of foreign and domestic authors, are designed to be popularly readable-not too elaborately written, but at the same time appreciative. The reader will perceive that they consist not of the usual puffatory commonplaces, but aim to be honest and original estimates. The standard of criticism thus far exemplified in these articles, will be faithfully maintained in the future course of the Magazine. If our judgments of men and books are not approved as accurate, they shall, at least, be approved as independent and frank. This literary series has been projected on an extensive scale, and will include most, if not all, the leading American writers, as also many foreign ones, with engraved illustrations. Preparations for the edifice of the World's Fair in New-York are rapidly progressing. It is to be a really splendid structure-one of which the nation may well be proud, notwithstanding any comparisons with the London Crystal Palace. Our artist is preparing an illustration of the design, which we hope will soon embellish our pages. The appearance of Mr. Thackeray among the American lecturers of the season, excites no little interest; not only his subjects-which are unquestionably among the most attractive in our literature-but particularly his character as an original author and humorist, command the warmest expectations. Authors, however, seldom come personally up to their own fine ideals, or the preconceived images of their personnel entertained in the fond imaginations of their readers. According to the Liverpool Courier, Mr. Thackeray must not be judged too critically in respect either to his physique or his oratorical pretensions. Describing one of his recent lectures, it says:-"His outward man must have appeared to his admirers very different from the idea they had previously formed of him. A somewhat clumsy figure, fattish features, and a manner carelessly, if not studiously, abrupt and awkward, were calculated to remind the audience of Yorkshire rather than of London. There was a total absence of that grace and suavity which serves to win the favor of an audience. The lecturer, on entering from the side of the platform, walked hurriedly up to the music-stand in the center, and with the slightest possible inclination of the body before turning round-a movement which might easily have passed unobserved by any one who was not particularly attentive-at once plunged into the heart of his subject. There might be observed a frequent absence of modulation, and a want of proper emphasis, which materially detracted from the effect of what he said. His gestures were the alternate thrusting of one hand and then the other, and then both, into the pockets, with the sole variety of these, being sometimes the coat and sometimes the trowsers pockets-the handkerchief, when employed, being carried equally into one and the other. The abruptness of his manner was illustrated in rather a comical way. Mr. Thackeray, in finishing his portrait of Swift, uttered in his highest key the words: 'More are to come, but none so great or so gloomy as this,' closed his book, and without the slightest token of leave-taking either in word or gesture, stalked off the stage. As the lecture had lasted barely an hour, we left the hall under the impression that we had heard the first part. A few others did the same, taking checks at the door to enable them to return. One gentlemen, feeling dubious as to whether the performance was over or not, put the question to an official at the door, and received a most authoritative assurance in the negative. The great bulk of the audience, such as it was, remained in the hall; and we learn from one of the papers, that after looking at one another for a sufficient length of time, a gentleman went behind the stage, and ascertained from Mr. Thackeray himself that the lecture was concluded!" The Boston Congregationalist contained lately a very interesting letter from an American traveler in Europe, sketching his visit to Herrnhut, the world-renowned sanctuary of the Moravians. The letter is full of most entertaining details, which we would like much to transfer to our columns, but we can only give a few glimpses at the interesting locale. It is about fifty miles east of Dresden, and is described by this writer as exceedingly neat, resembling a firstclass New-England village. It is regularly laid out, and its streets are paved, although they are so little traveled, that the fresh moss and grass spring up between the stones. The houses are plain and the gardens spacious and tasteful; and one cannot walk through the streets and be gladdened by the courteous and quiet greetings of the villagers, without feeling that the stillness around is indeed a symbol of the holy peace that reigns in all the dwellings. The cemetery is in the form of a parallelogram, surrounded by a hedge, and shaded by aged trees, that line the avenues by which it is intersected. Between the avenues are laid, in long rows, the flat, plain grave-stones, recording, with very few exceptions, only the name, with the places and dates of the birth and death of the deceased. One inscription will serve as a specimen of all: "Maria Ebing, born the 8th November, 1742, at Fredrickstown, Transylvania; fell asleep the 17th April, 1811." Instead of the expression" fell asleep," (which is most common,) some other simple phrase-as, "she went home"-is sometimes found. In the center of the cemetery, are the graves of Zinzendorf and his family. Upon the grave-stone of the former is an inscription, of which the following is a translation: "Here on the morning of the "Great Day,"-the "Love Meal" of the children-all indicate that the original simplicity and fervor of the Order remain in its old sanctified asylum. These brief references will, we doubt not, be gratifying to our readers, as the latest intimations received from that memorable locality. We conclude, in the present number, the transMargaret Fuller Ossoli. Those of our readers who have examined attentively the article, will consider themselves repaid by its interest. It narrates enough of her history to elucidate well the progress of her development, moral and intellectual, and its estimate of her characteristics is generally sensible and candid. It is, in fine, the most satisfactory paper that has been occasioned by her memoirs in transatlantic journals; and this is saying much, for we are not aware of any preceding work from this country which has attracted more attention from the critical journals of Europe. The Reviews of England are not yet done with it. Like the "Life of Sterling," it is seized by curious and critical minds as an example of a rare, and comparatively new class of hearthistories-a class whose most complete, if not earliest type, is Rousseau's startling picture of himself; a class which records more the history of the inner than of the outer life, and which, by strongly marked individual types, like these, indicates a tendency of the times. rests the body of the memorable man of God, Nicholas Louis, Count and Lord of Zinzendorf and Pottendorf, the most worthy Ordinarius of the Society of Brothers in Unity, which was restored in this XVIIIth century, by God's grace, and his own faithful, unwearied service." The writer visited the gentleman to whom is given the charge of the archives and the museum. In the museum are grotesque idols from barbarous lands and curious articles which the Mo-lation from the Revue des deux Mondes respecting ravian missionaries have collected in the corners of the earth. The interesting old man who has the care of them, expatiates with great animation upon the history of his treasures, and sometimes astonishes his more rustical neighbors, by appearing out in a Labrador cap, with a staff from South Africa, and a pipe from Arkansas. Under his care is the large library which contains the many works pertain ing to the history of the Moravians, and the public correspondence, and other papers relating to missions. Zinzendorf was himself a very voluminous writer. In addition to his numerous published works, there is a vast mass of manuscript from his pen, comprising a diary of some twenty volumes. Upon the walls of the room which contains these interesting things, are hung the portraits of Moravian missionaries, and portraits of Zinzendorf and his friends. One of the most interesting institutions in Herrnhut is the "Sisters' House," where females who have no home are received and cared for, and where the daughters of absent missionaries may reside. It has at present about a hundred inmates, and is a model of neatness and order. A walk of an hour brings one to the village of Hennersdorf. Here is the Zinzendorf castle. It is surrounded by a wall and ditch, and apparently strongly fortified, but it is now in great part a ruin. It was here that Zinzendorf passed a portion of his youth, and his favorite chamber is still shown. It is without furniture, and is sadly dilapidated. One of the most interesting items of this very interesting letter is the account of the writer's visit to the old missionaries, who, on account of their advanced age or infirmities, have returned to spend their last days with their brethren. One is there who has labored for thirty-nine years, and another for thirty years in Labrador, and two who were twenty-five years in South Africa. Their vivacity and simple-hearted piety are described as delightful, and it is cheering, says the traveler, to see these veterans in the missionary service, peacefully closing their lives among their Christian friends. The Moravians are emphatically the Missionary Church of modern times. One fact sheds an effulgence over their noble society, viz., that they have more actual members in their communion in heathen countries than in their domestic Churches. The writer proceeds to describe the public religious services of the "Brethren," but our quotations have already extended too far for further particulars. Their daily vespers, (chiefly devotional melodies,) the leave-taking of a "brother" for a foreign mission, their festal services-as the sublime one of Easter, when the whole congregation assembles on the burial-ground at the rising of the sun, in pledge of their assurance of the resurrection of their departed brethren The problem of Margaret Fuller Ossoli's spiritual history can be solved only by several considerations. The first of these is, doubtless, her early miseducation, the overaction of her faculties, the consequent derangement of those subtile ties which connect the mind with the body, and which so often occasion indescribable misery to men of strong sensibility and of genius. Physiological science is throwing increasing light on this subject; not only the marked monomaniacal case of Cowper, but such examples as Dante, Petrarch, Rousseau, Sterling, Poe, and Margaret Fuller, receive from it their chief explanation. The whole life of this extraordinary woman is a history of the consequences of this early error. There was appar ently no congenital cause of her mental unhealthiness. According to some accounts, she was naturally robust. She constantly revealed traits of good masculine common-sense; but they were combined with the most incongruous, morbid perturbations of the soul; not enn merely, but downright hypochondria-spreading dreariness and restlessness over her life, and baffling, as by a sort of demoniacal mockery, the noblest aspirations of her spirit. The explanation is, we think, more physiological than psychological. Her intellectual habits, also, especially her predilection for the literature of Southern Europe, had much to do with her abnormal peculiarities. So thoroughly was she addicted to the Italian writers, that she lived, here in our cold, practical age and country, the intellectual A century ago the children in Herrnhut gathered around Zinzendorf's grave, and "made a covenant with Jesus," which has been annually commemorated by the "Love Meal." come saintly in its virtues and in its peace also; as it was, she fed upon the husks of metaphysical transcendentalism and literary sentimentalism, and her inward life was a burden intolerable to be borne. The incessant cry of her spirit was, Who will show me any good? Literature, art-great minds, gave their answer. Her years were spent in studying it, and proved it a failure. Such, we think, the true, though simple, solution of this interesting case of spiritual history. Margaret Fuller had the elements of a truly great soul; her biographers and critics, we think, do not estimate her true worth. We not only respect her, we love her-and painfully sympathize with her suffering spirit as we read the history of its struggles. From her childhood to her death, she was the victim of untoward influences; she never received the moral guidance which such a mind needed. She was a noble martyr to the intellectual and moral fallacies that surrounded her. life of Italy. She repeatedly avers the fact, and, when in that country, she found its actual life, with all its detractions, the most congenial she had yet met with anywhere. The physical evils of her education in childhood might, with her vigorous constitution, have been measurably counteracted by more healthful studies in her youth; but she fed her morbid appetite with the very nutriment which a wise regimen would have proscribed. For a long time, even the diseased stimulus of modern French literature could not divert her taste from her favorite Italian authors, except in one or two cases, and the most influential of these was, in fact, more Southern than French-the most morbid, the most infectious, the most inevitably dangerous to youthful minds, of all modern writers Jean Jacques Rousseau. Of one of his own works Rousseau declared that "he that reads it is lost." Not his infidelity and his licentiousness alone render him perilous, but, to a mind like Margaret Fuller's, his profound but morbid sentimentalism, his agonizing earnestness, is, if possible, still more fatal. The contagion of Rousseau's diseased genius is yet pervading the literature of Europe. No author has left his impress more indelible upon the character of France. Her political writers show the power of his "Contrat Social," his "Discourse on Inequalities," and his revolutionary spirit. His "Nouvelle Heloise" is the model of her novelists. Her poets drink in his morbid sentimentalism. Lamartine himself, with all his better morale, worships him, lives in his writings, and has but reproduced his "Emile" and "Nouvelle Heloise" in the "Confidences." Robespierre kept Rousseau's works habitually on his table; La Mennais reads him daily for inspiration with which to begin the labor of his pen. The sophisms of his Savoyard vicar's creed have infected the religious speculations of most of the liberal minds of Europe. This is the writer of whose influence on her own mind Margaret Fuller speaks in the most passionate terms, and whose manuscripts she touched in Paris with more reverence than she ever yielded to the revelations of God; "feeling," she says, as she handled the "yellow and faded" papers, "the fire of youth immortally more and more expansive, with which his soul has pervaded this century." It may be affirmed, without much qualification, that few young minds can hab-thing of anybody, (as public men,) untied with itually read Rousseau without fatal moral effect. No writer is more demoniacally powerful. A third explanation of the sad history of Margaret Fuller's mind is to be found in her utterly unsettled views of religion. She needed, more than most minds, the repose which the implicit and childlike religious trust of the highest evangelical faith can alone impart. Her mental vision was too keen not to see the solemn moral relations and mysteries of the soul; she felt all their reality and fearfulness, but sought her moral redemption in esthetic culture. For this she labored with a noble earnestness and devotion; but her failure reveals itself most affectingly on almost every page of her strange Memoirs. Such a mind, under right religious direction, would have be John Bull, as we have frequently shown, is growing remarkably well disposed toward Brother Jonathan, in matters of literature, politics, &c.; his last self-conquest, however, will be to like Jonathan's character. Marryat says, in one of his works:-"I never knew a Yankee who was a real gentleman-but I never knew one with whom I wanted to fight." Englishmen have not been indisposed to concur with him in this estimate. One of them, however, has given, in a recent work on this country, a really smart eulogium on us. Carey, in his Two Years on Uncle Sam's Farm, utters himself in the following hearty terms:-"Vying with the Parisian in dress-the Englishman in energy-cautious as a Dutchman-impulsive as an Irishman-patriotic as Tell-brave as Wallace-cool as Wellington-and royal as Alexander; there he goes the American citizen! In answering your questions, or speaking commonly, his style is that of the ancient Spartan; but put him on a stump, with an audience of whigs, democrats, or barn-burners, and he becomes a compound of Tom Cribb and Demosthenes, a fountain of eloquence, passion, sentiment, sarcasm, logic, and drollery, altogether different from anything known or imagined in the Old World states. Say any conventional phraseology, he swings his rhetorical mace with a vigorous arm, crushing the antagonistic principle or person into a most villanous compound. Walking right on, as if it were life against time, with the glass at fever-heat, yet taking it cool in the most serious and pressing matter, a compound of the Red Man, Brummel, and Franklin-statesman and laborer, on he goes-divided and subdivided in politics, and religion-professionally opposed with a keenness of competition in vain looked for even in England; yet, let but the national rights or liberty be threatened, and that vast nation stands a pyramid of resolve, united as one man, with heart, head, hand, and purse, burning with a Roman zeal to defend inviolate the cause of the commonwealth." That will do for a while. Book Notices. Dr. Jesse T. Peck's baccalaureate address at the last commencement of Dickinson College has been published, and is for sale by Carlton & Phillips, New-York. Its title is God in Education, and it discusses the elements of right character in their relation to God. The theme is a sublime one, and it is illustrated with much skill. This discourse will be considered by the friends of Dr. Peck the most able production yet from his pen. We are indebted to Putnam, New-York, for a copy of the sixth edition of his Hand-Book of Chronology and History. It is a capital exposé of the "world's progress,"—a dictionary of dates, with tabular views of general history and a historical chart. The Addenda, covering some fifty closely-printed pages, and prepared in part by E. G. Langdon, Esq., present a vast amount of recent data. Mr. Langdon is an indefatigable bibliographer, as we have had occasion to learn in his connection with this Magazine. Mr. Putnam's volume is almost indispensable to the literary or professional man; and its convenience as a book for popular reference, should entitle it to a place in every domestic library. From the same source we have received Mr. Saunders's excellent Memoirs of the Great Metropolis; one of the best topographical pictures of London extant. It is not an ordinary guidebook, but a most entertaining volume of local descriptions, including the numerous places consecrated by genius, historical sites, and the most notable memorabilia of the city. The cuts are numerous and good. Leavitt & Allen, New-York, have favored us with copies of Woodbury's New Method with the German and German Eclectic Reader. Mr. Woodbury's Text-Books have received general sanction; they are fast displacing others in our academic institutions. His plan includes all the excellences of Ollendorf's, and goes far beyond the latter. We will guarantee for it the preference of any teacher who will test it. And what we thus venture to say of these German Text-Books, we can say equally of Fasquelle's French Course, and edition of Telemaque, founded upon the same plan, and issued by the same house. Long & Brothers, New-York, have issued an illustrated edition of Mrs. Hale's Northwood, a work which, when published, a quarter of a century ago, attracted much attention, and (a rare compliment then to American literature) was republished in London. Its pictures of American life still have their verisimilitude and freshness. Those which are copied from New-England, are especially good. The relation of the book to the prevalent agitation on slavery, will enhance its value to many, while to others it will render it any thing but acceptable. The former will consider it a fair portraiture of the institution; the latter an apology for it. trated Library. It abounds in good engravings, but is too meagre in its text. They have also for sale, from the same publishers, Miller's Pieturesque Sketches of London; an exceedingly entertaining volume of outlines of London life and London localities. Mr. Miller is well known by his "Pictures of Country Life," "History of the Anglo-Saxons," &c. He has diligently collected the most interesting features of his subject, both antique and modern. The reader will find at Bangs, Brother & Co., the both illustrated and unillustrated. choicest examples of foreign English works, Muston's Israel of the Alps, or History of the Persecution of the Waldenses, translated by Mr. Hazlitt, has been added to the list of the "London Illustrated Library," and is one of the best works of that popular series. The plates are numerous, and superior to the usual work of the company. Bangs, Brother & Co., are the American agents for these publications. The students of the "Biblical Institute," Concord, N. H., have issued, in neat style, a discourse delivered before them by Professor Dempster, on Christ's Mediation. It is in the marked style of Dr. Dempster, and full of suggestive and original thought. MacFarlane's Japan, published by Putnam, New-York, comprehends most of what is known respecting that terra incognita. Of course it is an interesting book; but it is more: it is in trinsically able and valuable. The reader will be surprised at the amount of information, geographical, historical, archæological, &c., which it affords. Its cuts are numerous, but only tolerably done. A memoir of three of the early bishops of the Methodist Episcopal Church, Whatcoat, M'Kendree, and George, from the pen of Rev. B. St. James Fry, has been issued by Carlton & Phillips, New-York. The resources at the command of Mr. Fry were quite limited, but he has availed himself of them with skill and success. We can commend his little volume, not only to Methodists, but all readers, as an interesting illustration of the early ecclesiastical history of the country. We should remark that it is adorned by a very fine likeness of M'Kendree. Mr. Shepard (Fulton-street) has on hand "Wilson's Treatise on Punctuation, designed for Authors, Printers, and Proof-Readers;" a little work which, for its valuable information, should find a place in the office and composing-rooms of every literary establishment in the United States. It ap has been issued by Putnam, New-York, as one Sicily-A Pilgrimage, by H. T. Tuckerman, peared some twelve years since, but is as of his Semi-monthly Library series. readable as ever, and derives even additional interest from the late revolutionary events of Sicily. It is a series of local pictures and Bangs, Brother & Co., New-York, have received sketches, in the graceful style which distin the Illustrated Geography of the London Illus-guishes all Mr. Tuckerman's productions. |