THE KING OF THE MOUNTAINS. From the French of EDMOND ABOUT,
Author of 'The Roman Question,' 'Germaine,' etc. By MARY L.
BOOTH. With an Introduction by EPES SARGENT, Esq. In one
volume: pp. 300. Boston: J. E. TILTON AND COMPANY, Number 601
Washington-street.
MONSIEUR ABOUT is said to have scared HIS HOLINESS, the POPE, the
kind and benevolent PIO NONO, (if we may trust _any_ of all the
numerous portraits and drawings which we have encountered of him,)
in his book upon '_The Roman Question_.' The author's very name may
have had something to do with it. He was 'about'--he was 'areöund':
and the 'French' of his cognomen, as pronounced by his countrymen,
was in itself suggestive of at least a signal of alarm--'_Ah-booh!_'
But this aside: the book is a remarkable one, in many respects:
and like its predecessors from the same pen, it will make an
'abiding mark' among the artistically-transferred literature to our
own, from a foreign tongue. This narrative of '_The King of the
Mountains_' is not at all complicated. Regarded as an artistical
picture, we may say with truth that 'the canvas is neither confused
nor crowded.' The story is supposed to be told by a young German
botanist. He proceeds to Greece with the purpose of herbalizing
in the mountains. 'Carried away by a scientific enthusiasm--the
most common and the most pardonable--he becomes the prisoner of a
remarkable brigand, HADGI-STAVROS, the King of the Mountains. He is
not alone in his captivity. An English lady and her daughter--the
former a striking portrait of a class of weak and consequential
tourists, and the latter a thing to be admired and loved by any
German, or any American, for that matter, under the circumstances
supposed--are the hero's fellow-prisoners. The greater part of the
book is taken up with a description of the character, positions,
resources, habits and influence of the brigand chief; the temporary
captivity of the party, who are made prisoners for the sake of a
large ransom, actually in view of Athens, (such is the state of the
government and police of that thriving kingdom!) and their final
ransom and escape. But there are other _dramatis personæ_ beside
MRS. SIMONS, who is a sort of MRS. NICKLEBY, an _Anglaise pour ire_,
and MISS SIMONS, who does not take after her mother. There are down
at the Piræus an American named HARRIS, a young Athenian girl, hight
PHOTINI, and a Frenchman whose ruling passions are archæology and
philanthropy. 'He had been rewarded by some provincial academy for
an essay on the price of paper in the time of ORPHEUS. Encouraged
by his first success, he had made a journey to Greece to collect
materials for a work on the quantity of oil consumed by the lamp of
DEMOSTHENES while he was writing the second Philippic.' HARRIS,
the American, is evidently a favorite character with M. ABOUT. He
invests him with all the best attributes of our countrymen, and
makes every adventure in which he is a participator honorable to his
gallantry and sagacity: 'The first time I dined with this strange
fellow I comprehended America. JOHN was born at Vandalia, Illinois.
He inhaled at his birth that air of the New World, so vivacious,
so sparkling and so brisk, that it goes to the head like champagne
wine, and one gets intoxicated in breathing it. I know not whether
the HARRIS family are rich or poor; whether they sent their son to
college or left him to get his own education. It is certain that
at twenty-seven years he depends only on himself; trusts only to
himself, is astonished at nothing, thinks nothing impossible, never
flinches, believes all things, hopes all things, tries all things;
triumphs in all, rises up again if he falls, never stops, never
loses courage.' One of the best of our American critics, Mr. BRYANT,
remarks of this book: 'No work of modern times, even in an English
dress, serves to convey so capital an idea of the style which made
VOLTAIRE famous, as this last agreeable romance of the author
of 'The Roman Question.' It is just such a story as TALLEYRAND
would have told over his chocolate, and SYDNEY SMITH relished and
decorated with impromptu comment.'
THE LITERARY AND PROFESSIONAL WORKS OF FRANCIS BACON, Baron
of Verulam, Viscount St. Albans, and Lord High Chancellor of
England. Volume II. of the 'Literary and Professional Works':
pp. 454. Boston: BROWN AND TAGGARD.
OUR first praise of this series of BACON'S works must be paid
to that feature which first appeals to us through the eye--its
typographical execution, by HOUGHTON, of the 'River-side Press' at
Cambridge, near Boston, which may be pronounced fully equal to that
of the first English printing in choice library editions of kindred
standard works. The volume before us contains, with translations,
BACON'S eulogium upon HENRY Prince of Wales, and the characters of
JULIUS and AUGUSTUS CÆSAR--the original Latin, with translation.
Also amendments and corrections inserted by BACON in a manuscript
copy of CAMDEN'S Annals. Then follow, prefaced by a curious
bibliographical note by Mr. SPEDDING, the 'Essays or Counsels,
Civil and Moral,' published from 1597 to 1625, (the year before his
death,) which exhibit 'the earliest and the latest fruits of BACON'S
observation in that field in which its value has been most approved
by universal and undiminished popularity. These fifty-eight Essays,
so wise and so eloquent in their simple yet forcible diction, occupy
the greater portion of the volume, and the editor has translated
the Latin quotations and added some necessary notes. There is an
appendix to the essays, containing a Fragment of an Essay on Fame;
reprints of the first edition of 1597, containing only ten, and
of the second edition of 1612, with thirty-eight essays, and two
essays attributed to BACON without authority; but, notwithstanding
some similarity of style, marked by Mr. SPEDDING as spurious.
There is, also, BACON'S treatise _De Sapientia Veterum_, itself
a curiously learned book, the translation of which will appear
in a future volume. 'BACON was one of the most remarkable men the
world has ever seen. His character is a remarkable compound of the
greatest nobleness and the most contemptible meanness. But of his
_intellect_, no two opinions have ever been expressed. If we knew
BACON only by his works, we should be bound to esteem him to be as
good as he was undeniably a great man.'
GUESSES AT TRUTH. By TWO BROTHERS. From the fifth London
edition. Boston: TICKNOR AND FIELDS.
THE PROVERBS and ECCLESIASTES are still without rival or peer,
notwithstanding that LACON has given us some good apothegms, and
MARTIN FARQUHAR TUPPER, who undertook to render King SOLOMON
into polite English, has had an amazing 'run.' A good proverb is
always acceptable: a poor one vexes us always, because the maker
assumes the position of teacher, and has no right to be either
stupid or mediocre. To set one thinking is more difficult, and
indeed more laudable, than to furnish one with thoughts; as it is
more praiseworthy to put one in the way of earning a living, than
merely to bestow a charity. It is easy, however, to assume the air
oracular; in fact there is more or less strength, _prima facia_,
in a pretentious position; and a platitude let off under cover of
high-sounding words may be very imposing. We have in 'Guesses at
Truth,' a book of five hundred and fifty-five pages, originally
published in England more than thirty years ago by two brothers,
clergymen, we believe, and now reprinted by the respectable house
of TICKNOR AND FIELDS. We have looked carefully through the volume;
and for once are forced to differ with the publishers as to the
taste of reproducing the book here. With the exception of some
very fair criticisms on SHAKSPEARE, MILTON, and one or two others,
borrowed a good deal from GOETHE and SCHLEGEL, and certain extended
disquisitions absorbed evidently from WORDSWORTH and COLERIDGE,
the book is utterly common-place. A good deal of it we remember to
have met with in our various newspaper clippings--a good deal we
confess never to have before encountered. In 'Guesses at Truth'
the French come in for very severe hits from the 'TWO BROTHERS'
whenever opportunity serves: they are full of the English prejudices
of the last century. Mark the following sagacious comparison: 'The
French rivers partake of the national character. [We should think
it would be just the reverse.--ED.] Many of them look broad, grand
and imposing, but they have no depth; and the greatest river in the
country, the Rhone, loses half its usefulness from the impetuosity
of its current!' Hear this precious piece of intelligence:
'France--the only region between Lapland and Morocco where youth is
without bloom, and age without dignity!' Here is something new about
the 'best talkers in the world:' 'Talk to a dozen Englishmen on any
subject: there will be something peculiar and characteristic in the
remarks of each. Talk to a dozen Frenchmen: they will all make the
very same remark, and almost in the same words.' But let us give
the reader a specimen of the more abstract 'Guesses:' 'What a pity
it is there are so many words! Whenever one wants to say any thing,
three or four ways of saying it run into one's head together;
and one can't tell which to choose. It is as troublesome or as
puzzling as choosing a ribbon or a husband.' Read the following.
It is Blackstonian: 'A use must have preceded an abuse properly so
called.' The next strikes us as exceedingly original: 'A little
management may often evade resistance which a vast force might
vainly strive to overcome.' And this: 'Children always turn toward
the light. Oh! that grown-up people in this world would become like
little children!' The art-world owes much for what follows: 'A
portrait has one advantage over its original: it is unconscious; and
so you may admire without insulting it. I have seen portraits which
have more.' (_Sic._) Here is something worthy a place in the 'Rules
of Etiquette:' 'A compliment is usually accompanied by a bow, as if
to beg pardon for paying it.' We have puzzled over the following
and 'give it up:' 'What way of circumventing a man can be so easy
and suitable as a period? The name should be enough to put us on
our guard; the experience of every age is not.' Further on we read:
'Truth endues man's purposes with _somewhat_ of immutability.' This
reminds us of the cautious writer who stated that '_most_ men were
mortal!'
For further examples of senseless platitudes dictatorially
expressed, we refer the reader to the work _passim_. There is
nothing more ridiculous than the deliberate sitting-down to write
a book of proverbs and reflections. How unlike the genuine flow
of the table-talk of some of our best men or the words of wisdom
forced, as it were, from the lips of experience. In short, we
are sick of pompous mediocrity on stilts: of that placid egotism
which complacently assumes the office of guide and teacher, though
incapable of aught but the tedious common-place. We do not want the
thoughts of great men passed through such alembics--in fact, we much
prefer to dilute our own proverbs if they prove too strong for us.
'Guesses at Truth' is beautifully printed on fine paper with clear
type; after the newest style of the accomplished publishers. We
regret to say the text is marred by the change of spelling of words
ending in _ed_. Thus we find: reacht, lookt, discust, toucht,
fixt, packt, etc., etc.--instead of reached, looked, discussed,
touched, fixed, packed. 'As the body to the soul, so the word to the
thought,' and we do not believe in thus mutilating what we are led
by habit at least to consider a fair proportion.
PROFESSOR VALENTINE MOTT'S SURGICAL CLINIQUES IN THE UNIVERSITY
OF NEW-YORK. Session 1859-60. Reported by SAMUEL W. FRANCIS, M.D.
THIS volume, which is gotten up in the best style of typography,
and illustrated with many superior engravings, embraces a report of
nearly one hundred surgical cases treated by the eminent surgeon,
Professor VALENTINE MOTT, M.D. The treatment of the cases is simple
and judicious, and they are narrated clearly and concisely. The work
is of great practical value and interest to the medical profession,
and reflects credit on its able reporter, Dr. SAMUEL W. FRANCIS. It
is embellished with a very accurate portrait of Professor MOTT.
WA-WA-WANDA: A LEGEND OF OLD ORANGE. In one Volume: pp. 280.
New-York: RUDD AND CARLETON, Corner of Grand and Crosby-streets.
This is a book seriously written, containing the narrative of an
old Indian called WINTER PIPPIN. The author, declining the trouble
of giving us a measure of his own, which certainly the originality
of his work demands, has modestly employed that of Mr. LONGFELLOW'S
HIAWATHA, for which Mr. LONGFELLOW ought to be very grateful.
The book before us--the work, a-hem!--on our table--reader, it's
no use; we can't write prose after reading it. We are alone in our
sanctum--no friend present to hold us in. We are wound up to a pitch
of excitement, the case is desperate, it must come. O shade of
WINTER PIPPIN, listen!
HERE'S a poem as is a poem,
Poem writ for all the ages;
Poem sung by WINTER PIPPIN,
'Winter Pippin--Piping Pippin.'
Should you ask us, gentle reader,
Is it twaddle, sorry twaddle?
Is it bosh and utter nonsense,
Nonsense all, not worth the paper,
Or the ink with which 'tis printed?
We should answer, we should tell you,
Buy the book and read it, read it,
Pay your last red dollar for it,
For this song of 'Wa-wa-wanda.'
Say no more, O carping critic!
That our time hath borne no poet;
Poet born to chant the chorus,
Chorus of the mighty Present;
Sing the age--its living genius,
Sing the age--its grand upheavings,
Sleepy nations slow awaking,
Crownless kings with ague shaking;
Sing the night, chased by the morning,
Sing the day that now is dawning.
Mourn no more, O wailing critic!
For HE's come. His name is PIPPIN,
Winter Pippin--not a Greening,
Not a Golden, but a Pippin--
And he sings in sweetest measure,
Sings this song of 'Wa-wa-wanda.'
(How it rhymes with 'goosey gander.')
Shades of HOMER, SHAKSPEARE, MILTON!
From your graves rise up and greet him,
Greet him with your heads uncovered,
Beavers doffed, with low obeisance,
All your hats off in his presence.
Minstrel! thou who now art singing,
Singing through this mighty nation,
(Greatest nation in creation,)
HENRY WADSWORTH, long-drawn FELLOW,
Ye who sang of HIAWATHA,
Sang the charming golden legend,
Sang the voices of the darkness,
Cease your singing, hush your fiddle,
Hang your jews-harp on the willows.
WHITTIER, too, and tuneful LOWELL,
Funny HOLMES, and graceful STODDARD,
Ye who soar in upper ether,
Feel at home the while you're up there--
Down at once, and fold your pinions,
Fold them, for the EAGLE soareth,
Soareth where ye cannot follow.
All ye poets, Yankee poets,
Go to bed and sleep upon it,
Ere again ye sound the cymbals,
Sound the cymbals, wake the echoes
Which have floated o'er the waters,
Floated sweetly o'er the waters,
Till far-distant climes have heard them.
Time and space would surely fail us,
Were we now to show the beauties,
Show the beauties of this poem,
Poem writ for all the ages;
How there lived a cider-maker,
'He, the first of cider-makers;
How his cunning built a saw-mill,
Sawed right through the Western country,
Into cask-staves sawed the forests,
Threw the slabs in the Pacific,
Threw the scrags in the Missouri.'
How he squeezed the juicy apples,
How he loved the juicy cider,
How he thought the world a barrel,
Bound together by a cooper,
Filled with cider to the bung-hole;
How he feared 'twould 'burst its hoops off,
Burst its hoops and split asunder;'
How it didn't split asunder,
But on fire was set one evening,
When the careless sun, retiring,
'Went to sleep and left his candle,
Slept and left his candle burning;
And it caught the chamber-curtains,
Caught and set them all a-blazing.'
How he thought, in month of August,
DRACO the meridian straddles,
'Elongates himself to northward,
Nine degrees and twenty northward;
And then thirteen more to westward,
Takes another twist, and downward
Slaps his tail of starry spangles
In the face of URSA MAJOR.'
How, one day, 'AURORA opened
Not as wide as wont her portals;
And the day-king, PHÆTON driving,
Ran against and brake the gate-posts:
Day of dash and dark disaster;
And with sun-dogs set, the heavens
Frowned affronted, scowled and scolded.'
'Hold! no more! in mercy spare me!'
Thus the reader now is pleading.
Can it be that taste poetic
From the world has fled forever?
Can such lofty, moving numbers,
Tire the reader in a second,
Tire him in a fleeting second?
Ere we part, O mighty poet!
Poet of the tuneful numbers,
Hear, oh! hear, our meek petition:
Hear an ancient KNICKERBOCKER!
Greatly long we once to see thee,
Once to gaze upon thy visage,
Once to hear the voice that sung _it_,
Once to press the hand that wrote _it_,
Once to feel the bumps that thought _it_,
Once to clip the hair _it_ came through;
(Clip a lock off for a locket.)
Once to tell thee all our wonder,
All our joy at this thy music,
Music sweet as 'Goosey-Gander,'
Music sung of 'Wa-Wa-Wanda,'
Music sung of apple-cider.
Call on us, O mighty Pippin!
At our snug and quiet sanctum,
Sanctum in the second story,
Of the building fifth in number,
Fifth in street that men call Beekman,
In the city known as Gotham;
And--our word is now at stake, Sir,
You our beaver hat can take, Sir,
Take our hat, our cherished beaver!
LEWIS' NEW GYMNASTICS FOR LADIES, GENTLEMEN AND CHILDREN: AND
BOSTON JOURNAL OF PHYSICAL CULTURE: a Monthly Journal: pp. 16.
Edited by Dr. D. LEWIS of Boston.
WE have seen only one number of this work; but we are so much
pleased with the plan and general execution of this first issue,
that we give it a cordial welcome and commend it to the American
people as worthy of the most liberal patronage. There is no subject
upon which the men and women of our country, and even the professed
educators of the rising generation, are more profoundly ignorant
than that of physical culture; and until the laws of physical health
are better understood and observed, we need not expect much increase
in intellectual or moral vigor. We wish to see on this continent a
race of noble men and women, alike healthy and robust in body and in
mind. Therefore we hail joyfully every instrumentality which wisely
aims to improve the race. Dr. LEWIS has for many years been devoted
to the subject of physical education, and his new and admirable
system of gymnastic training has elicited the warmest expressions of
approbation from those who have witnessed its beneficent results. We
bespeak for his noble enterprise the liberal patronage which it so
richly merits. The specimen number of his excellent paper now before
us, is alone worth nearly the price of the year's subscription,
which is but a single dollar.
CONSIDERATIONS ON SOME OF THE ELEMENTS AND CONDITIONS OF SOCIAL
WELFARE AND HUMAN PROGRESS: being Academical and Occasional
Discourses and Other Pieces. By C. S. HENRY, D.D. In one Volume:
pp. 415. New-York: D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.
THIS volume, the writer admits in the outset, contains some
things which are not quite in unison with the tone of popular
opinion, particularly in relation to the working of our political
institutions, and to our future fortunes as a nation. 'But who is
the better lover of his country,' he asks, 'he who lulls the people
with soft strains of pleasing adulation, and kindles their fancy
with bright pictures of future greatness and glory; or he who tells
them of the rocks and dangers which are around them, and of the
conditions on which their safety depends?' The author professes to
'love his country as much as any man that breathes;' but he does
not think the best way to show it is by perpetual eulogies on our
superiority as a nation: he does not think that the best way to
make a 'glorious future' of our country sure, is to be forever
casting brilliant horoscopes, without a single suggestion of the
_possibilities_ of disaster and defeat. 'At all events,' he adds,
'there are enough to flatter our self-love; let one faithful friend
be permitted to point out our faults: there are enough to cry peace
and safety; let one voice of warning be tolerated.' The discussions
of the volume touch upon great problems of human thought, and
embrace questions of high scientific and practical interest. Of
the themes treated of, there may be mentioned the following: 'The
Importance of Elevating the Intellectual Spirit of the Nation;' 'The
Position and Duties of the Educated Men of the Country;' 'The True
Idea of the University, and its Relation to a Complete System of
Public Instruction;' 'California, and the Historical Significance
of its Acquisition;' 'The Providence of God the Genius of Human
History;' 'Young America: the True Idea of Progress;' together with
papers upon 'The Destination of the Human Race,' (a somewhat bold
'subject,' and scarcely capable of safe 'handling,') 'Remarks on Mr.
BANCROFT'S Oration on Human Progress;' 'President-Making,' in 'Three
Letters to the Hon. JOSIAH QUINCY,' and a dissertation on 'Politics
and the Pulpit.' Here, as our readers may perceive, are ample
'fields of thought:' and in the library at 'Greystones' they have
been cultivated to much fructification. Let us give a slight taste
of our author's quality: thereabout especially where he speaks,
in terse, significant, unmistakable language, in respect of '_The
University_' proper, with its 'True Idea and Relations.' Observe,
please, that he considers 'self-made men' as being deprived, by lack
of a truly 'liberal' education, of numerous scholarly 'tools,' by
the use of which they might greatly have advanced their 'name and
fame.' In these matter-full sentences, reader, you may consider 'Dr.
OLDHAM, of Greystones' ('are you there, old TRUEPENNY?') seated in
his beautiful library, now rendered famous, and cogitating upon
'self-made men' and their mistaken judgment, sometimes, in regard to
the advantages to be derived from a sound and thorough university
education. This is the portrait of one QUINTUS QUEERLEIGH, able
editor of '_The Daily Trumpet_:'
'HE is politician, philanthropist, social reformer, believer
in social progress, in divinity of the people, (except those
who differ from him,) believer in every thing more than in
the wisdom of the Past. Clever man. Really able. Of manifold
abilities. Can write. Can think, too. Says many wise and good
things. Honest perhaps. So some think him. Great believer in
himself, no doubt; perhaps an honest believer in truth--that
which he thinks such. But not a learned man. A self-made man:
with the one-sidedness that often belong to such men. He has
already in advance opposed you. He bloweth with his trumpet
to the people, to warn them against you. He telleth them that
Common Schools are for the people: Colleges and Universities
are only to pamper the pride of the rich, the grinders of the
faces of the people. He bloweth with his Trumpet against the
legislators--warning them of the wrath of the people, if they
take the people's money to build up or sustain aristocratic
institutions, contrary to the Gospel of Progress which the
Trumpet proclaimeth: 'Peace on earth; and every man's coat cut
the same length with his neighbor's. 'Useless institutions,
too,' saith QUEERLEIGH. 'Look at me. Am not I an able editor,
politician, social reformer, writer, thinker? No college made
me. I made myself. That is the way to make men.'
'Foolish QUEERLEIGH! Foolish able editor! Knowest thou not that
there was a stuff in thee, and a spirit that has made thee an
exception to the general rule? Few men, perhaps, with thy lack
of advantages, would make themselves as able as thou art. But
with the advantages thou lackedst, many might. Beside, clever as
thou art, able editor, writer, thinker, thou art not a learned
man. No disgrace. How shouldst thou be? The thing for thee to
be ashamed of is, that thou shouldst decry what thou hast not.
For, those who are both as _able_ as thou art, and as learned
as thou art _not_, have said and testified in many ways, from
age to age, that learning, high learning and science, and the
discipline that comes with them, are good things, and minister
to the greater ability of the ablest of able men. Hadst thou
started in thy career of life possessed of the manifold culture
and accomplishment of a thoroughly educated man, thou mightest
have beaten thy actual self as much as thou now beatest many a
printer's apprentice with whom thou didst begin thy career.'
Hear, also, what our author saith of one PTOLEMY
TONGUE-END--patriot, democrat, demagogue, orator; who blows with his
noisy breath a blast very much in unison with the 'Daily Trumpet:'
'HE 'stumpeth' at Ward meetings. Unlike editor QUEERLEIGH, he
has no faith in the people, except in their gullibleness--no
faith in any thing except the wisdom of buttering his bread with
the people's money. So he blows any blast that he thinks may
help him to the favor of the sovereign people. He getteth into
the legislature, and there opposes, with great wrath and noise,
all grants to Colleges--calling them anti-democratic; though he
knows in his heart all the while that it is, of all things in
the world, the most democratic, that the people should be taxed
for the endowment of the highest institutions of learning, free
to all, as are the Common Schools--that so the children of the
people, out of the pockets of the rich, may receive an education
that shall enable them to take their share in the great prizes
of life. For nothing is more true than that the great prizes of
life (other things being equal) are grasped by those who have
the highest, most thorough and liberal education; and without a
great and perfect system of free Public Instruction, including
the University and the Colleges, as well as the Common Schools,
the children of the poor are, as a general rule, condemned
to a hopeless disadvantage, in competition with the sons of
the rich, in all the higher careers of life. There may be
exceptional cases: but such must be the rule. This is so patent
and palpable, it seems to me, to every man of common-sense and
common candor, that I have little patience with the false and
stupid twaddle which hollow-hearted demagogues, like TONGUE-END,
or hopelessly wrong-headed able editors, like QUEERLEIGH, are
perpetually pouring into the ears of the unenlightened masses:
putting the Common Schools and Colleges in opposition to each
other--as if there was any contradiction between them; as if one
was not as necessary as the other, as if every principle of that
democracy they prate so about did not require that the State
should provide, not only free primary instruction for all the
children of the people, but also the highest instruction for all
such of the children of the people as desire to go onward and
upward into the higher spheres of useful and honorable exertion.
Gentlemen, you may boldly join issue with these praters. Expose
the foolishness of their hackneyed cant. Keep on doing so: and
in due time, if you persevere, you will certainly disabuse the
public mind.'
As we have said, there is much matter for thoughtful consideration
in the compass of this handsomely-executed book; and we again
commend it to the acceptance of our readers.
PAGES AND PICTURES: From the Writings of J. FENIMORE COOPER.
With Notes by SUSAN FENIMORE COOPER. In one Volume: pp. 400.
New-York: W. A. TOWNSEND AND COMPANY.
IT is with even something _more_ than 'unusual pleasure' that we
call the attention of our readers to '_Pages and Pictures_:' the
superb work of Miss SUSAN FENIMORE COOPER, just issued by those
enterprising and tasteful publishers, Messrs. W. A. TOWNSEND AND
COMPANY, at Number 46 Walker-street, a locality where book-men
'most do congregate.' It is but simple justice to say, that no work
so profusely and beautifully illustrated, and with such unlimited
expenditure for paintings, engravings, paper, printing and binding,
has ever been issued in this country. The engravings alone, executed
from precious original pictures in the very highest style of the
art of celature, we are assured, cost over _ten thousand dollars_!
The paper, fine and delicate in tint, is of the firm consistence of
'Bristol-Board,' the _ne plus ultra_ of printing-paper: and of the
binding we can only say that it is exceedingly tasteful--exceedingly
beautiful. From a carefully-considered and elaborate review of
this excellent work, by GEORGE RIPLEY, Esq., we make the annexed
brief but interesting extract. As touching _the_ work by which Mr.
COOPER first became popularly known to his countrymen as an American
novelist, it is well worthy of preservation in these pages:
'THE plan of this volume has the attraction of novelty, and it
is executed, not only in the spirit of filial affection, but
with sound judgment, evincing the mingled frankness and reserve
which were due to the relation between the subject and the
editor. It consists of a selection of episodes from the writings
of Mr. COOPER, illustrative of the different phases of his mind,
and of the characteristics of his respective productions. In
connection with these extracts, the editor has added a large
amount of original matter, explaining the origin and history
of Mr. COOPER'S most important works, and giving a variety of
biographical incidents and reminiscences, which serve to throw
light on the personal career of the distinguished novelist.
''The Spy' was the first work which bore the unmistakable
impress of Mr. COOPER'S genius, and laid the deep foundations of
his fame. The scene of this story was laid in Westchester, where
he then lived, and it is not difficult to describe the local
circumstances by which it was suggested. The incidents of the
Revolution had not ceased to be the topics of conversation among
the people of the neighborhood. Many who had taken an active
part in the great struggle still survived. The gray-haired
house-wife, as she sat at the wheel, spinning her thread of
flax or wool, would talk of the armies she had seen passing her
father's door in her girlhood. There was scarcely a farm-house
in the country which had not been ravaged by Cow-boys, Hessians,
or Skinners. Homes had been destroyed by fire; good yeoman
blood had been shed; life had been taken; husband, father, or
brother had fallen in some unrecorded skirmish, the hero of a
rustic neighborhood. At the foot of the hill on which stood Mr.
COOPER'S cottage, there was the dwelling of a small farmer,
who loved to visit his genial neighbor, telling stories of
old times, and fighting over his battles with fresh interest,
aroused by the spirited questions, the intelligent sympathy of
his host. Other yeomen of the vicinity often joined the social
circle. As they drank their glass of cider, picked over their
hickory-nuts, or pared their Newtown pippin, all had some family
tradition to relate of hairbreadth escape, of daring feat, of
harried fields, of houses burned.
'But higher sources than these contributed to the leading idea
of the new books. Visits to Bedford were very frequent at
that period. One pleasant Summer's afternoon, while sitting
on the broad piazza of the house, Judge JAY and Mr. COOPER
were listening to the conversation of the venerable JOHN JAY,
as he related different facts connected with the history of
the Revolution. From an incident which he then described,
illustrating the services of a class of men who, in their
patriotic zeal, were of the greatest importance in obtaining
information for the Commander-in-Chief, the character of HARVEY
BIRCH was suggested. Strolling peddlers, staff in hand and pack
on back, were more common visitors at the country-houses of that
day than at present. It was after the visit of one of these
men, a Yankee peddler of the old sort, that the lot in life of
HARVEY BIRCH was decided: he was to be a spy and a peddler. The
novel was completed with great rapidity, and on its publication
in September, 1821, immediately attracted general attention,
and met with the most brilliant success. It was found on every
table, and enjoyed by all classes of readers. In Europe, the
'Spy' was received with great favor, and was soon translated
into French. Miss EDGEWORTH expressed herself very warmly in
its praise, and sent a complimentary message, through a common
friend, to the author, declaring that she liked 'BETTY FLANAGAN'
particularly, and that an Irish pen could not have drawn her
better. The history of the other principal works of Mr. COOPER
is given, interspersed with biographical details, of perpetual
interest. We thus have the man and his writings combined in a
graphic portraiture, which illustrates the strong individuality
of the one and the characteristic boldness and vigor of the
other.'
It needs but to add, in respect of the volume which we have been
considering, that it is worthy of the name and fame of COOPER, and
worthy of the name and fame of his present publishers.