sketches, making one of the most diversely | crest, a lofty gaze, a hauteur of bearing. fascinating duodecimos we have lately seen. With a heart overflowing with kindly sympathies, and a pure and delicate moral sense, she combines a world of "merry mischief," which is vastly amusing. She dearly loves to laugh and make fun, but her satire is always genial and good-natured, never striking what ought to be spared, and never distilling venom. Long live, and much often write, Ella Rodman! We are indebted to JOHN S. TAYLOR for this volume. A STORY OF LIFE ON THE ISTHMUS. Another number and the twenty-third, is this, of PUTNAM's Library, which may be read with interest. PATIENT WAITING NO Loss. Strange to say, Mr. Disraeli's bearing produces the same impression from a totally opposite cause. He has an habitual stoop, and there is that in his bearing and carriage which might be mistaken for humility. He has also an air of self-absorption, which does not appear natural; rather it seems to arise from an affected indifference to the gaze or the observation of others. It is not the less pride, though not of the most noble order. You can see glimpses of an evidence that self-esteem is no stranger to his mind. In spite of the assumed stolidity, you may detect the self-constraint and the furtive regards of a very vain man, who is trying to appear as if he were not vain at all. Although his eyes are downcast, they have not the downcast look of modesty, but rather of a sort of superciliousness, which is the most striking expression on the face. He seems to look down, because he considers it too much trouble to look up. But a further study leads you to think that your first impressions have been erroneous. Mr. Disraeli's organization, and, by degrees, see that the intellectual preponderates in you begin to believe that he is as much absorbed as he seems to be. Like Sir Robert Peel, he appears to isolate himself—to have forced on him by the immediate necessities no associates in the House, except those of party. This isolation and self-absorption are equally conspicuous, whether he is where about the House, in the lobbies, or in quiescent or in activity. Observe him anythe committee-rooms; you never see him in confidential communication with any one. All inlets of information and impression WORLD-DOINGS AND WORLD seem as if they were violently closed up by D. APPLETON & Co., have just published a prettily illustrated volume with this title. It was written by Mrs. Alice B. Nealknown to the young folks by the endearing title of "Cousin Alice," and embraces a pleasant little tale, adapted to the holiday season, which is told in its author's happiest style. How much better is it for ladies, to Occupy their pens with stories like the one we notice, rather than with wild tales of crime. There is a point gained too, to the world, by such an effort, which all the spasmodic horrors ever conceived, can never begin to attain. Genius shows itself in a summer dress, quite as well at it does in one blue, of freezing winter, especially when it belongs to women. SAYINGS. A BOOK has lately been published in London, entitled, "Critical Biographies." From it is obtained the following Daguerreotype of the personal appearance of Disraeli. It must be a truthful picture. Had there been no Punch to corroborate it, we should believe it verily to the life:-" There is decided character about the whole external of Mr. Disraeli, yet it is most difficult to determine in what it especially consists. The first impression conveyed to your mind, as, with clothes shaped apparently with too much care for effect, and those long flakes of curling black hair that can hardly be distinguished from the ringlets of a woman, he walks hastily, with a self-absorbed air, and a quick, short, shuffling gait, towards his seat is that of an effeminate, nay, almost an emasculate affectation. There seems to be a dandyism, not merely of the body, but of the mind also. We usually associate the idea of pride with an erect You an effort of the will. Yet we know from Still CHATTER-BOX. passions and sympathies. If some one of his friends interrupts him to offer a friendly suggestion, or to correct a misstatement of THE GRAND drawing of the Philafacts, the chances are that he will not notice delphia Art Union, took place on the last him at all, or, if he does, that it will be with night of the year at the Musical Fund Hall. a gesture of impatience, or with something The attendance was large, and the whole like a snarl, as, when a man is grinding a ceremony of the most interesting character. hand-organ, if his hand suddenly be stopped, First, there was the reading of the Report the pipes utter a slight discordant moan. of the excellent Board of Directors, by This singular self-absorption betrays itself Col. James S. Wallace, Chairman of the even when he is in a sitting posture. You Executive Committee; then followed the denever see him gazing around him, or lolling livery of a fine address by the Hon. William back in his seat, or seeking to take his ease D. Kelley-at the close of which a vote of as other men do in the intervals of political thanks was passed to the Judge.__ The audiexcitement. He sits with his head rigid, dence then selected Messrs. Dreer and his body contracted, his arms closely pinned Woodward, to superintend the allotments. A to his side, as though he were an automa- notary public present, having announced ton. He looks like one of those stone figures that the certificates were all right, sixtyof ancient Egypt, that embody the idea of one prizes were drawn, principally by Phimotionless quiescence for ever." -SIR ladelphians. Many of these prizes consist ARCHIBALD ALISON, in the last volume of of paintings having real merit, while others his "History of Europe," just published might as well be leather medals, for any in England, devotes one chapter to a survey value they possess, as works of art. Books of the literary, scientific, and social progress of subscription for 1853, are open at 210 of Great Britain since 1815, in the course of Chestnut street, and as money is abundant, which he thus touches upon Tennyson, the there is a chance of a full list. There is a poet:-"He has opened a new vein in Eng-question in the minds of many persons as to lish poetry, and shown that real genius, the beneficial influences of an institution even in the most advanced stages of society, constituted like our Art Union. We have can strike a fresh chord, and, departing an opinion on the subject, but we will “let from the hackneyed ways of imitation, charm it slide" for the present. the world by the conceptions of original thought. His imagination, wild and discursive as the dreams of fancy, wanders at will, not over the real so much as the ideal world. The grottoes of the sea, the caves of the mermaid, the realms of heaven, are alternately the scenes of his song. His versification, wild as the song of the elfin king, is broken and irregular, but often inexpressibly charming. Sometimes, however, this tendency leads him into conceit; in the endeavour to be original, he becomes fantastic. There is a freshness and originality, however, about his conceptions, which contrast strangely with the practical and interested views which influenced the age in which he lived, and contributed not a little to their deserved success. They were felt to be the more charming, because they were so much at variance with the prevailing ideas around him, and re-opened those fountains of romance which nature has planted in every generous bosom, but which are so often closed by the cares, the anxieties, and the rivalry of the world." A LIVELY movement is going on in London to abolish all taxes on knowledge, including of course paper stamps. Already has this movement called out in Parliament notice of an intention "to move for leave to bring in a bill to amend the law relating to the stamp duty on newspapers." CASSIUS M. CLAY of Kentucky, appeared personally before Esquire Rowchamp, of Cincinnati, lately, in a suit for the recovery of a hog alleged to have been taken by Messrs. Smith & Stevens, hog drovers. Mr. Clay gained the suit, and the defendants not being able to pay judgment, Mr. Clay gallantly loaned them the money for that purpose. NAPOLEON was divorced from Josephine, because he wished an heir to succeed him as the ruler of France. Now the grandson of the discarded wife, discarded for such an ambitious cause, actually holds the reins of France, as Emperor! This is a singular fact. Louis Napoleon, we would state, by the way, in answer to a correspondent, is not the second, but the third son of Hortense Beauharnois, by her husband, Louis Bonaparte. He was born April 20th, 1808. We notice by late French papers, that he has just made another speech, and sworn to another oath. How long before he will again perjure himself? WE ARE indebted to Messrs. James Munroe & Co., of Boston, for a catalogue of the officers and students of Harvard College for the year 1852-3. We learn by it, that the present number of resident graduates, is 332; under-graduates, 320; making a total of 652. A ROCHESTER, New York paper, says: The fact that a large quantity of acorns have recently been shipped from this counrry to Holland, reminds us of an enterprising Englishman who traversed the United States in the years that intervened between those of 1820 and '28, collected the seeds of our most desirable American forest trees, and planted an extensive nursery in England. He engaged in a novel enterprise of obtaining from the forests of Niagara county, planks of black walnut, oak, whitehood and maple, of the fullest length and width, and exhibited them as specimens of the trees he had planted. His next enterprise was a voyage to Hindostan, to collect seeds and plants. While in search of the objects of his visit in the Himalaya Mountains, he and his party were attacked and destroyed by wild beasts. THE MONKS of Saint Bernard, after exercising so long and so nobly the rites of hospitality among the snows of their lofty solitudes, are preparing to abandon their establishment, which will shortly be rendered useless by the opening of the tunnel of Menouvre; the good brethren will establish themselves beside this tunnel, and again proffer their world-renowned hospitality to travellers on this new route. to us, that he was sorry he could not sell a thousand or so of the Bizarres. "Folks say it's good," said he, "but somehow or nuther it don't seem to go with a rush; people who buy it are old fogies; men who turn up their noses at the Temple of Liberty,' the Freebooter', the 'Tattoo', the 'Crowbar', and all the other comic pictorials, men who always want plain reading papers. "If I was you," added the news-man, giving us a knowing wink, "I would put in some pirate stories, some rebusses, some conundrums, some seduction tales; then stick it full of wood cuts; it will go off like hot cakes." So much for the popular taste; a most vile, a most abominable one. Let those get rich by it who will. We prefer to have Bizarre maintain the same character it now does; yes, even though its circulation thereby may be considerably less than one hundred thousand copies of each number. Putnam seems to have lain out the same programme. We hear much of Joan of Arc: but no one speaks of Margot Delayne, the heroine of Montelimart. Admiral Coligny (one of the principal protestant leaders in the religious war of France,) had with his artillery made a considerrble breach in the ramparts of Montelimart; already the city was threaten with an irruption, when Margot Delayne placed herself on the open ramparts, followed by a troop of females; she overthrew what ever presented itself; she drove back the besiegers; and after having left one of her arms in the breach, she bore the besiegers as prisoners into the town. The gratitude of the inhabitants of Montelimart erected a statue to this intrepid woman, which, although much defaced, is yet to be seen. -THE OLD YEAR Went out so thickly veiled in mist, that we could not discover the expres-ed sion he wore at parting. It must have been anything but a pleasant one; for what office-holder is there, who, when he gets comfortably warm in his seat is disposed cheerfully to abdicate? Then to be hurried out of office, to be greeted at parting with the ringing of bells and the explosion of gunpowder, as 1852 was in Philadelphia! Enough surely to make one ill-natured. We were awake at the midnight hour, and heard all the expressions of joy to which we have alluded, as the noise of Fifty Two's chariot wheels grew fainter and fainter, and faded away forever! The New Year! what of her? (by the way, can any body tell why the old year should be him and the new year her?) she came in with a tearful eye; but there is nevertheless, promise of her being a good, plump, healthy girl. Whether she is destined to usher into being so many striking events as her predecessor, remains to be seen. And now what remains to be done in this paragraph? Nothing in the world that we can think of, but to wish every reader we have a happy new year! PUTNAM'S MONTHLY is an excellent | work, filled with able and useful material, and got up in truly taking style. But will it take? We hope so, with all our heart. This is an age pictorial. Putnam has no 'picturs', and therefore-never mind the therefore. As a specimen of what will go we relate an anecdote: We encountered a periodical dealer the other day, and he announced We perceive that the literary editor of the New York Tribune, attempts to be very severe over a new and sprightly work, lately published by John S. Taylor, called "Fun and Earnest." This might have been expected; for the author of "Fun and Earnest" has also written a very clever book, called "Fancies of a Whimsical Man," in which the aforesaid literary editor's Phalansterian brethren were most prodigiously saterized. We call attention to the extract from Mr. Moran's book of Travel, which appears in our pages. It is highly interesting. THE FOLLOWING Books await notice at the hands of the editor: From G. P. Putnam & Co., New York: «Romance of a Student's Life." From Appleton & Co.: "Life and Memorials of Daniel Webster;" 2 vols. From Harper & Brothers, New York: "Pictorial Fleld Book of the Revolution, No. 3; "Katie Stewart: a True Story;" "Rodolphus," by Jacob Abbott, From Redfield: "Napoleon in Exile;" by O'Meary; 2 vols. VOLUME II. PART 21. } "BIZARRE, BIZARRE, WHAT SAY YOU, MADCAP?"-Farquhar. Bizarre. FOR FIRESIDE AND WAYSIDE. FOR THE FORTNIGHT ENDING SATURDAY, JANUARY 22, 1853. THOMAS CARLYLE. For the last ten or fifteen years, no name has been more distinguished in the graver walks of literature, than Thomas Carlyle. His merits, and his blemishes,-(or what, by some, are reckoned his blemishes,)-have equally served to rivet attention upon him. His thought and his utterance are alike unusual, and calculated to produce at once a decided impression, either for or against. Accordingly he has been the object, on the one hand, of warm, and often enthusiastic, admiration, and, on the other, of bitter censure, as well as profuse ridicule. Such a reception assures us that Carlyle is no indifferent, common-place person, but entitled to an examination, whether it be to approve or condemn. To do complete justice to such a theme is impossible for me, with the time, space and materials at my command, even supposing the ability were mine. But something I hope to say, which, without discrediting the theme, may have some interest for my hearers. Thomas Carlyle was born, some two or three years before the opening of the present century, at Ecclefechan, Annandale, in the south of Scotland. His father was a farmer, and an Elder of the Presbyterian Kirk; and is said to have been remarkable for strong native sense. His venerable mother is still living,-(or was so recently,)-her days havbeen lengthened out to behold and enjoy the eminence of her son. This region of old Caledonia is noted for reliques of the Romans, still in tolerable preservation, though dating back to the days of the earliest Cæsars, and yet more notable, (in the view of every Scotchman,) as the birthplace of Robert Burns. Carlyle was destined by his parents to the Presbyterian ministry, and, with this intent, sent to Edinburgh College. Here, or elsewhere, he must have been an industrious student, for his writings perpetually overflow with various learning. The profession marked out for him, however, seems to have been far from squaring with his own incli {SINGLE COPIES FIVE CTS. nations. So far, indeed, that he uniformly manifests a not very exalted estimate of the priesthood, as a class, or of their office, as a present source of illumination. After leaving college, he occupied himself, for some time, with the task of instructionat one period, keeping an academy at Dysart, eleven miles north of Edinburgh, and, at another, having charge of several private pupils. It was during this time, he married a lady named Jane Welch, to whom report ascribes a strong mind, well educated, and much accomplished-fitted to appreciate and yield intelligent sympathy to a man like her husband. Ralph Waldo Emerson visited Carlyle in 1833, and found him living with his wife on a farm called "Craigenputtock," in Nithsdale, Southern Scotland, and occupied with penning literary and critical articles for Frazer's Magazine, and several of the British Reviews. In the beginning of 1834, he went to London, "literally to seek bread and work,”—in his own phraseology. He lived in that part of the city which goes by the name of the former village, Chelsea, and next door to Leigh Hunt;—and there he has continued, I believe, to live ever since, with the interruption of a few months. This interruption was occasioned by his removing, in the Spring of 1841, back to Annan, in Scotland, where he had bought a house, with the intention of residing. Feeling, however, dissatisfied, he returned, in the following autumn, to his Chelsea residence. Copiously and well as he has written about Germany and France, he has never visited either, or in fact ever set foot out of Great Britain. Ever since the publication of his History of the French Revolution, he has been growing daily into influence and estimation with the best minds in England. His books have a steady sale, and his circumstances are become easy and independent. Previously he had been very poor. His pinching, humiliating embarrassments, and his manifold sufferings from this source, qualified him to speak intelligently of Johnson and Scott, of Burns and Mirabeau, and to picture, with a life-like vividness, unreached perhaps by any other, the strange conditions amid which many of the master-pieces of literature have been produced. Celestial light issuing from the bosom of infernal glooms-pictures of warm, rich, completely-furnished bliss, wrought up in the shivering, famine-pinched, miserable garret-Divine melody, that, for others, gladden, and ennoble, and glorify existence, wrung out from hearts crushed and all desolate, like the exhilarating wine from the pressed grape, such portraitures of lettered history Carlyle painted with hues furnished by personal experience, and the painting is inimitable. So lately as 1833, he told a friend that not one person in Great Britain, except those who before were personal friends, had expressed to him any interest in his writings, or had been drawn to him by means of them. It is said, moreover, that he had fairly written himself out of the great British Reviews; and thus had reached a crisis of embarrassment and distress, when the publication of his "French Revolution," brought about a change in his fortunes. This history cost him two laborious years. They were years well employed, however: for their product not only at once made him known and honored, but led straightway to ease and comfort in pecuniary conditions. resque beauty, and then say if the race of the strong ones be yet extinct!-if there be not giants in the earth in these days as well as in the "olden time!"-if the world have not, once again, "assurance of a man!" Personally Carlyle is pronounced, by one knowing him intimately, "a great-hearted, brave and gentle being, in whom you may confidently reckon on finding invariably honor, kindness and truth." His conversation abounds in the same traits with his writings, being "strong, humorous, and picturesque, even to the panoramic." He speaks with the broad Scotch accent, as he writes, with not a few Scotch peculiarities of expression. He is, in person, tall, slender and wellshaped, with dark complexion, bright eyes, and a great, projecting brow, and would naturally attract notice in any company, by the intellectual power expressed in his head. He told a friend, that, "in his early youth, Tristram Shandy was his special favorite among books, and that Rousseau's Confessions first taught him that he himself was not a fool." There Miss Martineau, a near friend of Carlyle, describes him as a great and constant sufferer from a morbid constitution, "stretched always," in her phrase, “on an invisible rack." This fact, she adds, accounts for the caustic severity that not infreOne fact connected with this work, exhib-quently tinges his conversation. its, strikingly, the character of the man. One volume of the manuscript, the fruit of a whole year's hard labor, was lent, for some purpose, to a friend, and while in his hands was, by inexcusable carelessness, totally destroyed. Carlyle, without stopping to lament the calamity, sat calmly down and performed the task all over anew! seems, it should be stated, some discrepancy in the representations touching the character of his conversations-some pronouncing him exceedingly querulous in his intercourse with others, and Emerson, on the contrary, declaring that he saw no indication of such a vein. However, Emerson is himself a man of quite as rare a quality as Carlyle-carrying with him an atmosphere of chastened serenity and quiet cheerfulness, within which acrimony and harsh feeling are apt to die a natural death. In his society, Carlyle might find himself, per force, in a different frame from his wonted tone of feeling. Carlyle's humble parlor is described as a neutral ground, where men of the most opposite professions and pursuits, as well as opinions in religion, philosophy, politics and letters, meet for amicable interchange, and to listen to the rich, suggestive, stirring talk of their accomplished host. Perhaps in this private way he acts upon the thought and sentiment of England quite as powerfully as through his printed books. No possible circumstance could show more vividly that Carlyle is a person of pre-eminent resolution, firmness and perseverance. Just fancy him retraversing that long, toilsome, painful road, utterly robbed of the excitement of novelty, that cheered on the original journey! Behold him plodding along, day after day, and night following night, grim Penury overhanging and lowering all about him, and the myriad petty annoyances it brings with it, planting successively each its own venomous sting-doubts and fears, confirmed too well by past gloomy experience, touching the final success of an undertaking exacting so much toil and solicitude, -and the carking thought, as to what, in case of failure, only too probable, was to Carlyle's first appearance before the pubbecome of himself, and of one loved still lic, as author, was in the form of translator more than himself-imagine him toiling on from the German. He published an English for lingering, endless-seeming months, and version of Goethe's "Wilhelm Meister's Apout of such a black, tumultuous chaos bring- prenticeship," as also specimens of other ing to light a product of such powor and German novelists and romancers. His acvividness, such sunny clearness and pictu-quaintance with this language and its litera |