« ПредишнаНапред »
life, and I have left her this day in a lunatic asylum. God, As soon as her shattered health allowed her to underwho has visited me with this affliction, has given me take the journey to Hampshire, Mrs. Southey returned to strength to bear it, and will, I know, support me to the Buckland Cottage. There, surrounded by her nearest reend, whatever that may be."
lations and oldest friends, she gradually recovered the His letters at this period all breathe the same spirit of energies of a mind shaken indeed by long anxiety and resignation and of steadfast endurance, but his health was sorrow, but not weakened. greatly impaired by three years of devoted watchfulness, Her old gayety was forever gone, and she shrunk from accompanied by the necessity for literary labor.
any new literary exertion. During the remaining years On the 16th of November, 1837, Edith Southey sank of her life she chiefly occupied herself with arranging a painlessly and peacefully to rest. However thankful her complete edition of her works, including the finished porhusband must have been for such a release from suffering, tions of “ Robin Hood," and a life of Peter Bell, which she he did not recover the loss of one who had been for two had begun at Keswick thirds of his life his chief object, as he was hers. His On her marriage Mrs. Southey had lost an annuity be. friends persuaded him to seek restored health and cheer queathed to her by a relation of her father's, Colonel Bruce. fulness by going abroad; and on his return to England he It was therefore with great satisfaction that she learnt in paid a visit of some weeks to Buckland cottage, arriving 1852 that the Queen had conferred on her a pension of there in October, 1838.
two hundred a year, in consideration of the benefits reHis spirits revived in the society of his old friend, and a ceived by literature from her husband's works. This penfew months later he wrote thus to Walter Savage Landor: sion had been granted owing to the unceasing efforts of
“Reduced in number as my family has been within the her brother-in-law, Dr. Southey, on her behalf ; and was last few years, my spirits would hardly recover their habit- therefore all the more welcome to her. ual and healthy cheerfulness if I had not prevailed on She paid at least one visit to London to see the beautiMiss Bowles to share my lot for the remainder of our ful recumbent statue of Southey which lies above his tomb. lives. There is just such a disparity of age as is fitting. The original intention and agreement with Mr. Lough, the We have been well acquainted with each other more than sculptor, was that the monument should be of Caen stone; trenty years, and a more perfect conformity of disposi- / but with characteristic liberality he executed it in white tion could not exist : so that in resolving upon what must marble; he presented also a fine cast of the bust to his be either the weakest or the wisest act of a sexagenarian's widow. When the writer of these brief records went to life, I am well assured that, according to human foresight, see it at his studio, Mr. Lough remarked how like Mrs. I have judged well and acted wisely, both for myself and Southey's eye and the expression of her features was to my remaining daughter."
| her husband's. He naturally did not allude to the fact, that when he In 1853 Caroline Southey also passed away. Only a first made an offer to Caroline Bowles, she “refused to few hours before her death she was watching a fine Eastburden him with an invalid wife.” That objection was Indiaman that had purposely been run aground near the happily removed by her gaining an unwonted degree of Needles, to avoid swamping a little fishing-boat that health; and on the 5th of June, 1839, she was married to crossed her track. She observed to Lady Burrard, who him at Boldre Church.
was with her to the last, how impossible it was for her to The rest of the summer was chiefly spent in paying realize that death was close at hand, with her miod so visits among her relations, to whom her husband now | fully awake to all the interests of life! Her early prayer showed himself in his pleasantest character. He was ex- | was fulfilled, as it seemed to the letter:tremely agreeable, when throughly at his ease in society; and he apparently took great interest in the new family
Come not in terrors clad to claim
An unresisting prey ; circle in which he found himself so cordially welcomed.
Come like an evening shadow, Death, The first symptoms of failure of memory soon unhappily
So stealthily, so silently, appeared, but they were looked upon as mere absence of
And shut mine eyes, and steal my breath ; mind, and excited no uneasiness.
Then willingly, oh willingly, Southey had once dedicated a poem to Caroline Bowles,
With thee I'll go away. his “ kind friend and sister poetess," called “ The Sinner well saved.” It was the story of “the wretched Eliemon
She lies in the church-yard at Lymington, surrounded by who sold his soul to the demon;" and of course belonged
many generations of her kindred, far away from the stormto a class of subjects w.ich had a singular attraction for
swept grave of her poet-friend and husband. But it is him. He explained that the Satan of the Middle Ages
right that some memorial of her should be associated with appeared to him a purely mythological personage, whom
bis name and memory. he had as much right to use as he would have had to introduce Pan or Faunus into a poem. This in some degree accounts for the reasonable offence given by many — too
SOMETHING LIKE A FIRE. many - of his writings. Quite a new subject was now to engage his own pen and his wife's. They projected and « WELL, you seem to have discharged the · Whole Duty partly accomplished a poem, which was to take up and of Man,' according to John Murray,” remarks a St. PetersWeave together the legends of our Saxon hero, Robin burg friend to whom I have been retailing my experiences Hood. Mrs. Southey was full of hope, when he had settled of the interior of Russia. “Is there anything left to add again amongst his old pursuits and friends and books, that to the list ? ” he would entirely recover a healthy tone of mind, and all “ Nothing that I can think of, unless it be a big fire.” bis former vigor; and she still looked forward to many "A big fire, eh? Why, you're worse than the rat that happy years. This, however, as we all know, was a falla- starved in the granary. I'm sure there have been fires cious hope ; his mental powers gradually diminished ; and enough this summer to give every tourist in Russia, one for although he long enjoyed hearing her read, and nearly to
ring her read, and nearly to himself.” the end loved the sound of her voice and of her name, the This statement, though rather "tall," can hardly be set Lorch burnt lower and lower till it was finally extinguished. down as a positive exaggeration. During the past summer The last year of his life was passed in a tranquil, dreamy Russia has been outdoing herself in fires, in a way astonstate, in which he recognized no one, not even his wife. ishing even to those who remember the great conflagra
Robert Southey died on the 21st of March, 1843, and tions of 1862. All the journals have been teeming with was borne to his rest on a stormy morning, in the beauti- fire after fire, to an extent which might lead a casual ob
al church-yard of Crosthwaite. Few besides his own fam- server to conclude either that the Russians are in the habit !ly and immediate neighbors followed his remains ; but his of regaling themselves annually with a patriotic rehearsal
imate friend Mr. Wordsworth crossed the hills on that of the burning of Moscow, or that the entire nation bas wild morning to be present at the funeral.
attained the condition of the Chinese in Charles Lamb's
incomparable « Essay on Roast Pig,” among whom the only | a bar sinister drawn athwart some gorgeous escutcheon. known method of cookery was by burning the entire prem- | But all is in vain. The hemp within is already aligbt. ises. North, south, east, and west, the public at large. The smoke deepens — thickens — reddens suddenly — and appears to have been amusing itself by making a bonfire up through the roof leaps a great spout of fire, with a long. of everything that comes to hand, while the insurance rejoicing roar, accompanied by a sharp snapping like the companies of every degree are repenting in dust and ashes. report of a firework. The rafters crack and biss in the One could hardly open a newspaper without seeing an
blaze; the “chirr" of broken glass is heard from the apnounced, in a careless, off-band summary of half a dozen per windows; and right and left the fiery claws clutch at lines, as a matter of no moment, the destruction by fire the adjoining timbers, till all is one broad flame, above and of " fisty bouses,” “ one hundred and thirteen houses,” “an entire street containing several public buildings.” Hith- / Wilder and wilder grows the tumult. Engine after erto, however, I have remained, like Gideon's fleece, dry / engine comes rattling up, goes thundering across the bridge amid abundance, not a single fire out of all this multitude | into sudden darkness, and comes out again in the full glare having been obliging enough to come in my way; but it is
e in my way: but it is 1 of the fire — the faces of the men, and the very buttons on decreed that this delay shall be atoned for by the spectacle
their uniform, standing out as clear as if under a microscope. of a conflagration worth all the rest put together.
What with the stilling heat, the fierce intensity of moreOne dreary September night, I had been sitting up late
ment, and the deafening uproar, my battle-visions are more over the fifth volume of Count Tolstoi's “War and Peace,” than realized. Every feature of the panorama - the perhaps the best Russian historical novel ever written. I hoarse words of command, the incessant play of the engines, was just midway through the Borodino chapter, and had
the helmeted figures running and scrambling under the red so thoroughly enjoyed the life-like description of the great
glare, the crash of falling timbers, the masses of men loonbattle, that it was little wonder if it haunted me even in
ing shadow-like through the rolling smoke – is in grin sleep. But I could hardly have slept more than an hour,
harmony with the idea. It is the escalade of Balajoz when I was roused by a clamor that might have awakened
over again! a rural policeman, and, rushing to the window, found my
As yet the great warehouse in the centre of the wharf self in the midst of a scene that almost realized the visions
has escaped unscathed, though environed on every side by of battle upon which it had broken. Alarm-lights were
a perfect wall of flame; but it has evidently not long to live hoisted upon the tower of the fire brigade station, which
now. Flakes of burning hemp fall upon it like rain, and a was next door to me; lamps were fitting about the court
long jet of fire from the nearest of the blazing buildings yard; the trampling of horses and the rumble of wheels,
keeps darting viciously out at it, in stroke after stroke, like mingled with the hoarse shouting of many voices, came
the arm of a boxer. One blow, swifter and fiercer than the echoing from below; and overhead, the whole sky was
rest, at length gets well home; the dark mass is suddenly purple with the reflection of a fierce red glare that broke
lit up from within, sparks and pieces of wood fly in all the darkness far away to the eastward. There could be
directions, and in a few seconds the whole building is in no doubt of it, I bad got my wish at last. I dressed my
flames. And now the destruction has reached its height. self as if “ running it close" for morning chapel at Oxford,
From the head of the bridge to the farthest storehouse, the and was down-stairs and out of the house in a twinkling.
whole wharf is one great roaring blaze, the floating sparks “ Where is it?" ask I of one of the helmeted figures in
of which shoot ath wart the black sky overhead like the gray frieze who are rushing about in front of the station.
fiery rain of Dante's “ Inferno;” and in its ghastly splen" Tootchkoff Bridge,” answers the man, and the next
dor, the whole length of the quay, the dark woods that moment I am running at full speed towards the scene of
cluster along the farther shore, and even the golden domes action. There is no need to inquire further; at the men
of the churches far away beyond the Great Neva, stand tion of the Tootchkoff Bridge, I comprehend at once the
out in a weird, unearthly picturesqueness. whole extent of the catastrophe. The bridge in question
At this moment - how or whence no man can tell — a crosses the Lesser Neva about half-way along the eastern
fearful whisper runs through the crowd that there are men shore of the island on which the Vasili-Ostroff suburb is
shut up in the great warehouse — probably stupefied by the built ; and close to it, on the farther side of the river, lies
smoke, and unable to get out. The rumor speedily reaches an enormous hemp-wharf, containing four or five ware
the firemen, and the bare suggestion is enough to stimulate houses, and usually covered with piles of loose bales, in
them to redoubled exertion. Half a dozen stalwart volunaddition to the quantity stored within. Such a magazine
teers, with their clothes steeped in water to keep off the of fuel, once fired, would make a blaze to startle all Peters
flames, dash into the glowing mass, flinging aside the halfburg; and, indeed, the whole neighborhood is already in
consumed timbers with the strength of giants; but the commotion. Heads are thrusting themselves out of win
stilling heat soon overpowers even them — they stagger, dows; voices calling to each other ; half-dressed figures
scorched and gasping, out of the furnace, and sink ex. running about the streets; and more than once, as I fly
hausted on the ground. One man actually plants a ladder along, a fire-engine comes thundering past at full gallop,
against the burning building, and mounts it with a hosethe brazen helmets of its men glancing redly in the fitful
pipe under his arm, in the hope of giving it a surer aim. light. At length, as I turn the corner of the street leading
For one moment he is seen outlined against the flaming to the Tootchkoff Bridge, the whole scene bursts upon me
background like a statue of bronze - and then an ill-aimed at once.
jet from one of the other engines strikes the brave fellow The entire front of the hemp-wharf is one sheet of danc
full on the body, and sweeps him like a feather into the ing flame, which, tossed by the rising wind, swoops forward
very heart of the fire! Not a trace of him was ever seen ever and anon as if to overleap the very river itself, cast
again; and his very name is most probably unknown. Why ing out a heat which, even across the whole breadth of the
should it not be ? he was neither grandee nor general — stream, is well-nigh unendurable. Beneath the deepening
“ Only an honest man glare, the river seems to run blood; the faces of the crowd,
Doing his duty;" looking wan and ghastly beneath that infernal lustre, and human life, like human labor, is cheap in Russia. appear and vanish like phantoms; while, in the distant And so, through the long night, the fire roars and rages; background the tall, lance-like tower of the great church and when the day dawns upon it at last, there is but little of the citadel looms out through the rolling smoke like a left for the destroyer to feed on. Slowly and sullenly his threatening giant. Of the store-house in which the fire rage dies away in hoarse growls and gaspings, and the began nothing is left but a great heap of glowing embers, silence of utter desolation now sinks upon that great wilaround which the flames rising from the loose hemp lap derness of ruin. and surge like a whirlpool. A second warehouse is just While the fire raged, the indescribable magnificence of bursting into a blaze, and the engines are working with the spectacle made one half forget its horror, and the ruin might and main to save it, the long black line of the which it entailed; but in the gray of early morning, when water-jet standing out against the flaming background like the uproar and excitement are over, it is a dreary and hid
os sight. Over the whole place broods a guilty silence, I MR. HUBERT SMITH, the author of “ Tent Life with
air of hopelessness and lifelessness, a blank unseeing | Gypsies in Norway," has built himself a house near Laurtre from the gaping windows, which makes one feel like | vig, in that country, and married a gypsy of the name of e accomplice of some mysterious crime. The great ware Esmeralda, who is said to possess extraordinary musical ase, where the fire did its worst, is gutted from roof to | talent. Bementl only a few blackened beams, like the ribs of a RocheFORT is contriving to get his Lanterne into eleton, bridge the space between the smouldering walls. France. Recently the Paris police had occasion to pay a verbead, the clear sky is blotted with creeping smoke;
visit to a dress-maker, and on searching her premises they bile the ground is covered far and wide with half-con
found a great variety of articles which they had not ex. med bales, mounds of singed hemp, masses of iron plat
pected to find, and among them several bundles of the first gbent and twisted in every direction, charred planks and
number of La Lanterne. soke-blackened rafters floating in pools of water; and ound the chaos stand groups of curious spectators, not
SERIOUS complaints are made by the church papers in pisy or excited, but with a cool, scientific appreciation
Prussia of the decrease in the number of students of divin. hich seems to say, “We have seen the like often before,
ity at the German Universities. Should there not be an ut it is always worth seeing again."
early increase there is reason to fear that in a few years It needs little imagination to transform the whole scene hence half the Protestant livings in the country will be unato a great battle-field; the blackened ruins of the con provided with incumbents. ested entrenchment standing grimly up in front - the A MAN recently died in Manchester, England, in conseharred bales and broken planking strewing the ground quence of having swallowed a silver teaspoon, which had ike heaps of slain, amid which the strips of scarlet cloth
caused ulceration of the coats of the stomach, and perforahow like trickling streams of blood — while the helmeted tion, and — death. On being questioned in his last hour, · iremen who toil amid the chaos might well pass for the few he was not aware that he had eaten anything unusual. survivors of the conquering army paying the last honors to This is probably the neatest instance of absent-mindedness their fallen brethren. And that nothing may be wanting
| on record. to complete the tragedy, amid the thickest of the ruin lies a strange, forinless heap, oozing out a thick, white, nauseous
A STORY to this effect is current. A little girl named Smoke - a kind of unctuous, pitchy cinder, from which the
Redmond, a daughter of one of the porters connected with most case-hardened veterans of the fire brigade avert their
Covent Garden, was about the stage some nights ago.
While Marimon was on the stage, the young creature at eyes in horror. There are five men missing this morning from the gang of the Tootchkoff Wharf, and this is all that
the wings hummed after her the air that she was then singis left of them!
ing. Faure, who happened to be about, heard, and was Turning away in disgust, I suddenly come face to face
charmed with her execution. The following day her voice with the Russian acquaintance mentioned at the opening of
was tried. Faure was right. The juvenile songstress will my story, who is surveying the dismal scene with the air of
be sent to Italy. Redmond is a capital name for a prima à connoisseur.
donna. * Well,” remarks he, with a quiet smile (he is a man who The London Academy in a review of Charles Nordhoff's would make a joke upon anything), “ one advantage of all “ Northern California, Oregon, and the Sandwich Islands " this is, that after such a destruction of hemp it will be says: “ The book before us is one of the simplest, and at sinuply impossible for men of moderate means to hang them
the same time one of the pleasantest, narratives of travel selves for some time to come!”.
we have met with for some time. The illustrations are So goes the march of events. A catastrophe unparalleled numerous and excellent, and the descriptions so agreeably within the memory of man, the destruction of three millions' and unaffectedly given, that we can heartily recommend it worth of property, half a dozen men killed by the cruellest
to our readers.” Mr. Nordhoff's work is reprinted by of all deaths - and all this is summed up in ten or twelve
Sampson Low & Co. The American edition is published careless lines of print and the passing jest of a dilettante! by the Harper Brothers. But the counter-observation of an old fireman who is work
GERMANs in France are having a much harder time than ing near us sends me away somewhat comforted.
they had during the war. Then they had things pretty "Poor fellows!” mutters the veteran, crossing himself, much their own way ; but now residence in Paris is nearly as he looks askance at the shapeless mass into which five unbearable for Germans. Germans who formerly lived in living men have been melted down," there's little enough Paris find, on revisiting that city, that they are quite igleft of them now, but God will know them when they come nored by their former intimate French friends. “All so. to Him."
cial intercourse has been broken off by the French in a manner not to be misunderstood.” One Frenchman was
called on by a German, and he returned the visit by leavFOREIGN NOTES.
ing at the house of the latter a card bearing the words, in
writing, “ Au revoir à Berlin." A PRAYER-ROOM in private houses, fitted up ecclesiasti
A Paris journalist is never so entertaining as when he cally, is the latest fashionable novelty.
is writing about England. The following absurd statement The London Athenæum promises to give its readers is made in a late nu nber of the Vie Parisienne: “On Dext week some hitherto unpublished letters of Robert Hyde Park Terrace is to be seen a house surmounted by a
large glass case. The history of that case is curious MADAME Patti is going to create a new part, having
enough, and shows how the English strictly observe the accepted the role of Virginia in M. Victor Masse's new
law. An Englishman, having married a widow with seropera of “ Paul and Virginia.”
eral children, declared that the latter would have the right Two jewellers have been sent for from Paris to value the
to remain there so long as he himself was on the spot. The
Englisbman died, and the children forth with had him emjewels and precious stones, etc., which are in the Pope's possession, and which he proposes to sell.
balmed and placed in the glass case in question. The fam.
ily of the deceased brought an action for ejectment against M. JULES VERNE, whose ingenious romances are just the children of the widow he married, but failed, owing to now very popular in Paris, is preparing his " Round the the fact that the Englishman had not stipulated anything World in Eighty Days " for the Paris stage.
about his body being dead or alive, and as it still remains PRINCE BISMARCK, who takes baths daily at the Salt
on the spot the children are the rightful possessors of the Works in Kissingen, bas caused a request to be inserted in
house.” the papers, desiring people meeting him in the public walks THE Geographical Society of Paris has, according to and drives not to salute him.
the Débats, received information confirming the rumor of
the death of M. Dournaux-Dupéré, who was conducting ble in the highest ranks of the peerage ; and generally his L an expedition in the Sahara. The young traveller had other improbabilities and blunders are a shade more glar1 advanced to Ghadamès by a route hitherto unknown to ing and outrageous than those of the class of writers who's European explorers, and after a long stay there, he started | he has undertaken to outdo on their own ground.” for Gbât on April 12. When about five days' journey from Ghadamès, he was robbed and murdered, together with another French traveller, M. Joubert, by some de
SUMMER NOON. serters from the tribe of the Chamba. The news was brought by some Ghadameans, who had themselves been
'Tis midday, burning midday in mid June; robbed of their camels, and had seen the bodies of the
No breeze in all the realms of air hath birth, French travellers lying on the road, and was transmitted And, stupefied, the scarcely breathing Noon to the French governor of the district of Tripoli. The Lies heavy, heavy on the heat-drugged earth. crime seems to have been pre-arranged, through the Cows seek the shed's, the birds the woodland's shade; treachery of Si-Nabécur-ben-Ettahar, one of M. Dournaux
And lazily with every living thing Dupéré's guides, who has been handed over to the
Goes the hot hour that parches bough and blade, caïmacan of Ghadamès, and by him delivered up to the
Save with the insect sporting on the wing
Blue through the heat, the far-off mountains show, French consul-general at Tripoli, who will send him to
Shouldering their peaks, away o'er heath and fen, Algiers. The murder appears to have been committed on
Far up the eastern sky. The fierce sun-glow April 17 or 18.
Strikes to the heart of things; while now and then
Gushes of odor from the south go by, The Saturday Review is rather severe on “Young Borne on light airs that neither live nor die. Brown.” The critic says: “It is perhaps somewhat surprising that the sensational novel has not long since died a natural death. The improbability of incident, the un
THREE SONNETS. natural dialogue, the ludicrous mistakes as to the practices of society, the utter ignorance of legal and other profes
TO NATURE IN HER ASCRIBED CHARACTER OF UXMEANING sional knowledge which mark the vulgar type of these
AND ALL-PERFORMING FORCE. productions have been repeatedly exposed. But, apart altogether from critical condemnation, it might have been
O NATURE ! thou whom I have thought to love, supposed that the competition in absurdity and extrava
Seeing in thine the reflex of God's face, gance in which this school of fiction indulges would of
A loathed abstraction would usurp thy place, itself lead in time to a process of exhaustion. The pace While Him they not dethrone, they but disprove. seemed to be too severe to last. Every new novel in this style was bound to be more thrilling than its predecessor,
Weird Nature ! can it be that joy is fled, and there was consequently the prospect that a point must
And bald un-meaning lurks beneath thy smile? some day be reached beyond which fantastic nonsense
That beauty haunts the dust but to beguile,
And that with Order, Love and Hope are dead? could no further go. If this climax has not been reached before, it has been reached now. Whether Young Pitiless Force, all-moving, all-unmoved, Brown'is meant seriously or as a joke, it is certainly the Dread mother of unfathered worlds, assuage wildest and most preposterous picture of life which has
Thy wrath on us, — be this wild life reproved, yet been produced. So much so, indeed, is this the case
And trampled into nothing in thy rage ! that we can hardly help thinking that its purpose must Vain prayer, although the last of humankind, really be satirical; and as an enemy of the sensational Force is not wrath, - she is but deaf and blind. novel, we are therefore disposed to welcome in the author
II. of · Young Brown'an ally in a new and unexpected form. The idea of holding up novelists to ridicule by caricatur
Dread Force, in whom of old we loved to see
A nursing mother, clothing with her life ing their wilder passages is not indeed wholly original.
The seeds of Love divine, with what sore strife Readers of Thackeray will remember his admirable par
We hold or yield our thoughts of Love and thee! odies on Bulwer, James, and other popular writers of fifteen years since, who had struck out special lines of their own; Thou art not “calm,” but restless as the ocean, and Bret Harte's rougher American humor has lately
Filling with aimless toil the endless years, — been turned into a similar channel. But the authors Stumbling on thought, and throwing off the spheres, whom these humorists have amused us by caricaturing
Churning the Universe with mindless motion. were at least men of some real gifts and power. It has Dull fount of joy, unhallowed source of tears, been reserved for the author of - Young Brown' to apply Cold motor of our fervid faith and song, his satirical faculty to the ordinary hack manufacturers of Dead, but engendering life, love, pangs, and fears, three-volume novels, and especially those who cater for
Thou crownedst thy wild work with foulest wrong, the lovers of pure sensationalism. It is certainly the sim
When first thou lightedst on a seeming goal, plest explanation of his extraordinary plot that it is, from
And darkly blundered on man's suffering soul. first to last, a burlesque of a well-known class of novels. No one seriously intending to write a story would select
III. such incidents as are here strung together as the frame Blind Cyclop, hurling stones of destiny, work of the wildest romance. Seduction, bigamy, violence,
And not in fury! — working bootless ill, the unpleasant juxtaposition of characters who are closely
In mere vacuity of mind and will — related, but without their knowledge — these are too com Man's soul revolts against thy work and thee! mon elements in the ordinary sensational romance to strike
Slaves of a despot, conscienceless and nil, one as extraordinary here but for the special touches of ex
Slaves, by mad chance befooled to think them free, aggeration which make this story the satire which we have
We still might rise, and with one heart agree assumed it to be. Peers doing the meanest and most To mar the ruthless“ grinding of thy mill ” ! felonious actions with the most courtly of airs, and gaining thereby the smallest possible advantages at the highest Dead tyrant, though our cries and groans pass by thee, conceivable risks — these are staple articles of the stock
Man, cutting off from each new “ tree of life' in-trade of writers in three volumes. But caricature must
Himself, its fatal flower, could still defy thee,
In waging on thy work eternal strife, go beyond this, and our author achieves his object by making his villainous nobles more rascally, and their criminali
The races come and coming evermore, ties meaner and more felonious, than any novelist bas Heaping with hecatombs thy dead-sea shore. hitherto dared. He takes care also to keep as far as possi- 1
This work could be done to excellent effect by the EVERY SATURDAY: scientific journals We do not see, indeed, why a yearly A JOURNAL OF CHOICE READING,
publication devoted simply to the cataloguing of books PTBLISHED WEEKLY BY H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY, of science, arranged in scientific classes, might not be 219 Washingtox STREET, Boston:
practicable, to be issued by a body of scientific men, or NEW YORK : HURD AND HOUGHTON ;
an institution like the Museum of Comparative Zoology Cambridge: The Riverside Press.
at Cambridge, the work being parcelled out to experts, Single Numbers, 10 cls.; Monthly Paris, 50 cls.; Yearly Subscription, $5.00.
whose business it should be to keep track of all that S. B. THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY and EVERY SATURDAY sent to one address
was appearing. Such a book would be of unspeakable For $8.00.
advantage to students, especially if it also included articles in magazines as well as separate pamphlets and books.
Let the Museum, for instance, take science; the various SPECIAL BIBLIOGRAPHIES.
medical journals compete with each other in recording
medical works; the General Theological Library in BosTHERE has been much complaint among the more
ore | ton take theology; the law periodicals take law; the enterprising booksellers of the very discreditable condition
National Academy of Design works on fine art; and by of American bibliography. Now and then some one has
degrees the whole body of literature of special sort would attempted to supply the deficiency, and there has been a
| be recorded by those persons who were most conversant useful substitute in the catalogue of current books brought with the several classes. The labor of the man who together by Mr. Leypoldt from the several individual
should gather this material into comprehensive shape catalogues of the various publishers; but the fact remains
would be great, but nothing like so great as it now is. either that there is not enough general interest in the
The preliminary work, and especially the work of bringmatter, or the task is too gigantic for any one person to
ing to light obscure and half private works, must be done andertake it.
by enthusiastic volunteers. Probably the difficulty is owing largely to the fact that a vast number of books have been published in America
NOTES which are reprints of English books, yet not so stated; many of them, thus reprinted, have been subjected to - The United States Official Postal Guide, which has more or less editorial revision ; a great number of books been under consideration at Washington for some time bave been issued in a semi-private manner; a number | past, and for the publication of which the last Congress have been as it were secretly published as subscription provided, is to be issued by Hurd and Houghton, New books, and finally the practice of stereotyping, more com York: The Riverside Press, Cambridge, by authority of mon here than abroad, has led to the practice of reissuing the Post-Office Department. The contents of the Guide od books at comparatively little expense, and giving them will be prepared under the supervision of the Department, a fresh start in the world under new names.
and the work will have an official character which will Mr. Leypoldt’s Publishers' Weekly is doing very much render it of great value especially to business and profestoward gathering year by year the material for a full sional men. The Guide will be issued quarterly, the first bibliography, but the book-trade is in an almost wholly | number to appear on the first of October next, and will unorganized condition, and the multiplication of business contain an alphabetical list of all the post-offices in the centres all over the country leads to desultory publishing United States, with the county and State, and salary of which it is exceedingly difficult to register. No doubt the postmaster; money-order offices, domestic and interthe increased interest in the subject will lead to some national ; chief regulations of the Post-Office Department; combined action finally, perhaps under the auspices of the instructions to the public; foreign and domestic postage Librarian of Congress, who has unusual facilities for super tables; schedules of the arrival and departure of foreign intending the work, but meanwhile we would suggest a
mail steamers, with such other information as may be method by which great assistance could be rendered and | required. One number each year will contain about a constant service done to the public.
four hundred octavo pages, having special matter not in The real demand made upon a bibliography, we sup- the other numbers of the year, which will contain about pose, is by students of special subjects, who wish to know two hundred and fifty pages each. The publication quarwhat has been published in their department. Now it is terly will enable the Department to revise the matter, and noticeable that there is a tendency toward the publication keep the information always fresh. Such a Guide is in of organs, so called, of every department of thought or use in Great Britain, and will be found of special value in work which has any organization at all. The persons
our country, where the number of post-offices is so great. who conduct and support these journals are specialists
- The dedication prefixed to “ The Notary's Nose," by who are on the keen hunt for everything relating to their the translator and publisher, develops a state of feeling specialty. Such journals should make a business of re- within the charmed circle of the publishing profession, cording in systematic form, at regular intervals, the names which ought to do something toward dispelling the prejuof all publications bearing upon the specialty that have | dice which prevails against this class of men. “ This appeared in any part of America, not confining their translation," it reads, “ is, without his knowledge or conattention to the books and papers which have been sent sent, dedicated to Edward B. Dickinson, a stenographer to them for notice, but giving as a matter of scientific who not only, by his skill in his art, relieved the translator news the titles, and such explanation as may be required, of much labor, but by his amiable disposition, good taste, of all publications of which they are aware. Then the and knowledge of many tongues, went beyond his mere monthly or quarterly journals thus recording could sum- professional duty to frequently offer the right word where marize the whole at the close of the year. The rival the translator hesitated, and to sometimes suggest a better journals could vie with each other in the fulness and word than the translator had uttered.” One may find a accuracy of their information, and the solitary organs similar instance in the good-natured dedication which the could make as mighty a show as their specialty permitted. same translator gave to his colleague, Mr. Leypoldt, at the