A friend of my youth, poor Mr. S---- lost his only son, in a very

lamentable manner. He had but two children: this son and a daughter.

Both were exceedingly handsome, full of talent and kindly affection;

and the two young people were most strongly attached to each other.

Suddenly, the health of young S---- was perceived to decline. He

became grave--pale--sad--emaciated. His parents took the alarm.

Physicians were sent for. No corporeal disease of any kind could be

discovered. The doctors declared privately that there must be

something on his mind, as it is called, and his father with the

utmost kindness and tenderness, besought him to confide in him,

assuring him that if any thing within the reach of fortune or

influence could give him relief, his wishes should be accomplished,

whatever they might be.

"You can do nothing for me, my dear father," replied the young man,

sadly; "but you deserve all my confidence, and I will not withhold

it. That which is destroying me, is want of rest. Every night, about

an hour after I lie down, a figure dressed in white, very like the

figure of my dear sister, glides into the room, and seats itself on

the right side of my bed, where it remains all night. If I am asleep

at the time of its coming, I am sure to wake, and I remain awake all

night with my eyes fixed upon it. I believe it to be a delusion; but

I can not banish it; and the moment it appears, I am completely

under its influence. This is what is killing me."

The father reasoned with him, and took every means that could be

devised either by friends or physicians, to dispel this sad

phantasy. They gave parties; they sat up late; they changed the

scene; but it was all in vain. The figure still returned; and the

young man became more and more feeble. He was evidently dying; and

as a last resource, it was determined to have recourse to a trick to

produce a strong effect upon his mind. The plan arranged was as

follows. His sister was to dress herself in white, as he had

represented the figure to be dressed, and about the hour he

mentioned, to steal into his room, and seat herself on the other

side of the bed, opposite to the position which the phantom of his

imagination usually occupied, while the parents remained near the

door to hear the result. She undertook the task timidly; but

executed it well. Stealing in, with noiseless tread, she approached

her brother's bed-side, and by the faint moonlight, saw his eyes

fixed with an unnatural stare upon vacancy, but directed to the

other side. She seated herself without making the least noise, and

waited to see if he would turn his eyes toward her. He did not stir

in the least, however; but lay, as if petrified by the sight his

fancy presented. At length she made a slight movement to call his

attention, and her garments rustled. Instantly the young man turned

his eyes to the left, gazed at her--looked back to the right--gazed

at her again; and then exclaimed, almost with a shriek, "Good God:

there are two of them!"

He said no more. His sister darted up to him. The father and mother

ran in with lights; but the effect had been fatal. He was gone.

Nor is this the only case in which I have known the most detrimental

results occur from persons attempting indiscreetly to act upon the

minds of the sick while in a very feeble state. Once, indeed, the

whole medical men--and they were among the most famous of their time

in the world--belonging to one of the chief hospitals of Edinburgh,

were at fault in a similar manner. The case was this: A poor woman

of the port of Leith had married a sailor, to whom she was very

fondly attached. They had one or two children, and were in by no

means good circumstances. The man went to sea in pursuit of his

usual avocations, and at the end of two or three months intelligence

was received in Leith of the loss of the vessel with all on board.

Left in penury, with no means of supporting her children but her own

hard labor, the poor woman, who was very attractive in appearance,

was persuaded to marry a man considerably older than herself, but in

very tolerable circumstances. By him she had one child; and in the

summer of the year 1786, she was sitting on the broad, open way,

called Leith-walk, with a baby on her lap. Suddenly, she beheld her

first husband walk up the street directly toward her. The man

recognized her instantly, approached, and spoke to her. But she

neither answered nor moved. She was struck with catalepsy. In this

state she was removed to the Royal Infirmary, and her case, from the

singular circumstances attending it, excited great interest in the

medical profession in Edinburgh, which at that time numbered among

its professors the celebrated Cullen, and no less celebrated

Gregory. The tale was related to me by one of their pupils, who was

present, and who assured me that every thing was done that science

could suggest, till all the ordinary remedial means were exhausted.

The poor woman remained without speech or motion. In whatever

position the body was placed, there it remained; and the rigidity of

the muscles was such, that when the arm was extended, twenty minutes

elapsed before it fell to her side by its own weight. Death was

inevitable, unless some means could be devised of rousing the mind

to some active operation on the body. From various indications, it

was judged that the poor woman was perfectly sensible, and at a

consultation of all the first physicians of the city, the first

husband was sent for, and asked if he was willing to co-operate, in

order to give his poor wife a chance of life. He replied, with deep

feeling, that he was willing to lay down his own life, if it would

restore her: that he was perfectly satisfied with her conduct; knew

that she had acted in ignorance of his existence; and explained,

that having floated to the coast of Africa upon a piece of the

wreck, he had been unable for some years to return to his native

land, or communicate with any one therein. In these circumstances,

it was determined to act immediately. The Professors grouped

themselves round the poor woman, and the first husband was brought

suddenly to the foot of the bed, toward which her eyes were turned,

carrying the child by the second husband in his arms. A moment of

silence and suspense succeeded; but then, she who had lain for so

many days like a living corpse, rose slowly up, and stretched out

her hands toward the poor sailor. Her lips moved, and with a great

effort she exclaimed, "Oh, John, John--you know that it was nae my

fault." The effort was too much for her exhausted frame: she fell

back again immediately, and in five minutes was a corpse indeed.

This story may have been told by others before me, for the thing was

not done in a corner. But I always repeat it, when occasion serves,

in order to warn people against an incautious use of means to which

we are accustomed to attribute less power than they really possess.

And now, I will really go on with "The Bride of Landeck" in my next

letter.--Yours faithfully,

P.

Editor's Drawer.

Here is a very amusing picture of that species of odd fish known as

a _Matter-of-Fact Man_:

"I am what the old women call 'An Odd Fish.' I do nothing, under

heaven, without a motive--never. I attempt nothing unless I think

there is a probability of my succeeding. I ask no favors when I

think they won't be granted. I grant no favors when I think they are

not deserved; and finally, I don't wait upon the girls when I think

my attentions would be disagreeable. I am a matter-of-fact man--_I_

am. I do things seriously. I once offered to attend a young lady

home--I did, seriously: that is, I meant to wait on her home if she

wanted me. She accepted my offer. I went home with her; and it has

ever since been an enigma to me whether she wanted me or not. She

took my arm, and said not a word. I bade her 'Good Night,' and she

said not a word. I met her the next day, and _I_ said not a word. I

met her again, and she gave a two-hours' talk. It struck me as

curious. She feared I was offended, she said, and couldn't for the

life of her conceive why. She begged me to explain, but didn't give

me the ghost of a chance to do it. She said she hoped I wouldn't be

offended: asked me to call: and it has ever since been a mystery to

me whether she really wanted me to call or not.

"I once saw a lady at her window. I thought I would call. I _did_. I

inquired for the lady, and was told that she was not at home. I

expect she was. I went _away_ thinking so. I rather think so still.

I met her again. She was offended--said I had not been 'neighborly.'

She reproached me for my negligence; said she thought I had been

unkind. And I've ever since wondered whether she _was_ sorry or not.

"A lady once said to me that she should like to be married, if she

could get a good congenial husband, who would make her happy, or at

least _try_ to. She was not difficult to please, she said. I said, 'I

should like to get married too, if I could get a wife that would try

to make me happy.' She said, 'Umph!' and looked as if she meant what

she said. She _did_. For when I asked her if she thought she could

be persuaded to marry me, she said, she'd rather be excused. I

excused her. I've often wondered _why_ I excused her.

"A good many things of this kind have happened to me that are

doubtful, wonderful, mysterious. What, then, is it that causes doubt

and mystery to attend the ways of men? _It is the want of fact._

This is a matter-of-fact world, and in order to act well in it, we

must deal in matter-of-fact."

* * * * *

Some modern author says of gambling, that it is "a magical stream,

into which, if a man once steps, and wets the sole of his foot, he

must needs keep on until he is overwhelmed." Perhaps some readers of

the "Drawer" may have heard of the officer, who, having lost all his

money at play, received assistance from a friend, on condition that

he would never after touch a pack of cards. A few weeks after,

however, he was found in an out-house drawing short and long straws

with a brother-gamester for hundreds of pounds!

"The most singular species of gambling, however, is one which is

said to be practiced among the blacks in Cuba. Many of these stout,

hearty, good-humored fellows daily collect about the docks in

Havanna, waiting for employment, and gambling in cigars, for they

are inveterate smokers. This forms one of their most favorite

amusements. Two parties challenge each other, and each lays down, in

separate places, three or more cigars, forming a figure resembling a

triangle: they then withdraw a few paces, and eagerly watch their

respective 'piles.' The owner of the 'pile' _on which a fly first

alights_, is entitled to the whole!

"It should be added, that a pile smeared any where with molasses,

to attract the more ready visit of the flies, was considered in the

light of 'loaded dice' among 'professional men' of a kindred stamp."

* * * * *

Let any man, "in populous city pent," who has left the cares,

turmoils, and annoyances of the town for a brief time behind him,

with the heated bricks and stifling airs, that make a metropolis

almost a burthen in the fierce heats of a summer solstice, say

whether or no this passage be not true, both in "letter" and in

"spirit:"

"In the country a man's spirit is free and easy; his mind is

discharged, and at its own disposal: but in the city, the persons of

friends and acquaintances, one's own and other people's business,

foolish quarrels, ceremonious visits, impertinent discourses, and a

thousand other fopperies and diversions, steal away the greater part

of our time, and leave us no leisure for better and more necessary

employment. Great towns are but a larger sort of prison to the soul,

like cages to birds, or 'pounds' to beasts."

* * * * *

There is a good story told, and we believe a new one--(at least, so

far as we know, it is such, as the manuscript which records it is

from a traveled friend, in whose "hand-of-write" it has remained

long in the "Drawer")--a story of Samuel Rogers, the rich banker,

and accomplished poet of "The Pleasures of Memory:"

Rogers arrived at Paris at noon one day in the year 18--. He found

all his countrymen prepared to attend a splendid party at

Versailles. They were all loud in expressing their regrets that he

could not accompany them. They were "very sorry"--but "the thing was

impossible:" "full court-dresses alone were admissible;" and to

obtain one _then_--why "of course it was in vain to think of it."

Rogers listened very patiently; told them to "leave him entirely to

himself;" and added, that "he was sure he could find some amusement

somewhere."

No sooner were they gone, than he began to dress; and within the

space of a single hour he was on the road to Versailles, fully

equipped, in a blue coat, white waistcoat, and drab pantaloons. At

the door of the splendid mansion in which the company were

assembled, his further progress was opposed by a servant whose

livery was far more showy and imposing than his own costume.

Rogers affected the utmost astonishment at the interruption, and

made as if he would have passed on. The servant pointed to his

dress:

"It is not _comme il faut_: you can not pass in: Monsieur must

retire."

"Dress! dress!" exclaimed Rogers, with well-feigned surprise: "Not

pass! not enter! Why, mine is the same dress that is worn by the

_General Court_ at Boston!"

No sooner were the words uttered, than the doors flew open, and the

obsequious valet, "booing and booing," like Sir Pertinax

Macsycophant in the play, preceded the poet, and in a loud voice

announced:

"_Monsieur le General Court, de Boston!_"

The amusement of the Americans in the group scarcely exceeded that

of the new-made "General" himself.

On another occasion, Rogers relates, he was announced at a Parisian

party as "Monsieur le Mort," by a lackey, who had mistaken him for

"Tom Moore."

Not unlike an old New-Yorker, who was announced from his card as

"_Monsieur le Koque en Bow!_"

His simple name was Quackenbos!

Now that we are hearing of the manner in which foolish and

ostentatious Americans are lately representing themselves in Paris

by military titles, as if connected with the army of the United

States, perhaps "Monsieur le General Court, de Boston" may "pass

muster" with our readers.

The implied satire, however, of the whole affair, strikes us as not

altogether without a valuable lesson for those miscalled "Americans"

who forget alike their country and themselves while abroad.

* * * * *

When the oxy-hydrogen microscope was first exhibited in Edinburgh, a

poor woman, whose riches could never retard her ascent to the

kingdom above, took her seat in the lecture-room where the wonders

of the instrument were shown, and which were, for the first time, to

meet her sight. A piece of lace was magnified into a salmon-net; a

flea was metamorphosed into an elephant; and other the like marvels

were performed before the eyes of the venerable dame, who sat in

silent astonishment staring open-mouthed at the disk. But when, at

length, a milliner's needle was transformed into a poplar-tree, and

confronted her with its huge eye, she could "hold in" no longer.

"My goodness!" she exclaimed, "a camel could get through _that_!

There's some hopes for the rich folk yet!"

* * * * *

Legal tautology and unnecessary formulas have often been made the

theme of ridicule and satire; but we suspect that it is somewhat

unusual to find a simple "_levy_" made with such elaborate

formalities, or, more properly, "solemnities," as in the following

instance:

The Dogberryan official laid his execution very formally upon a

saddle; and said:

"_Saddle_, I level upon you, in the name of the State!"

"_Bridle_, I level upon _you_, in the name of the State!"

Then, turning to a pair of martingales, the real name of which he

did not know, he said:

"Little forked piece of leather, I level on you, in the name of the

State!"

"Oh, yes! oh, yes! oh, yes! Saddle, and Bridle, and little forked

piece of leather, I now _inds_ you upon this execution, and summon

you to be and appear at my sale-ground, on Saturday, the tenth of

this present month, to be executed according to law. Herein fail

not, or you will be proceeded against for contempt of the

constable!"

* * * * *

We find recorded in the "Drawer" two instances where ingenuity was

put in successful requisition, to obviate the necessity of "making

change," a matter of no little trouble oftentimes to tradesmen and

others. A rude fellow, while before the police-magistrate for some

misdemeanor, was fined nine dollars for eighteen oaths uttered in

defiance of official warning that each one would cost him fifty

cents. He handed a ten-dollar bill to the Justice, who was about

returning the remaining one to the delinquent, when he broke forth:

"No, no! keep the whole, keep the whole! _I'll swear it out!_"

And he proceeded to expend the "balance" in as round and condensed a

volley of personal denunciation as had ever saluted the ears of the

legal functionary. He then retired content.

Something similar was the "change" given to one of our hack-drivers

by a jolly tar, who was enjoying "a sail" in a carriage up Broadway.

A mad bull, "with his spanker-boom rigged straight out abaft," or

some other animal going "at the rate of fourteen knots an hour" in

the street, attracted Jack's attention, as he rode along; and,

unable to let the large plate-glass window down, he broke it to

atoms, that he might thrust forth his head.

"A dollar and a half for _that_!" says Jehu.

"Vot of it?--here's the blunt," said the sailor, handing the driver

a three-dollar note.

"I can't change it," said the latter.

"Well, never mind!" rejoined the tar; "_this_ will make it right!"

The sudden crash of the _other_ window told the driver in what

manner the "change" had been made!

* * * * *

Some bachelor-reader, pining in single-blessedness, may be induced,

by the perusal of the ensuing parody upon Romeo's description of an

apothecary, to "turn from the error of his way" of life, and both

confer and receive "reward:"

"I do remember an old Bachelor,

And hereabout he dwells; whom late I noted

In suit of sables, with a care-worn brow,

Conning his books; and meagre were his looks;

Celibacy had worn him to the bone;

And in his silent chamber hung a coat,

The which the moths had used not less than he.

Four chairs, one table, and an old hair trunk,

Made up 'the furniture;' and on his shelves

A greasy candle-stick; a broken mug,

Two tables, and a box of old cigars;

Remnants of volumes, once in some repute,

Were thinly scattered round, to tell the eye

Of prying strangers, "_This man had no wife!_"

His tattered elbow gaped most piteously;

And ever as he turned him round; his skin

Did through his stockings peep upon the day.

Noting his gloom, unto myself I said:

'And if a man did covet single life,

Reckless of joys that matrimony gives,

Here lives a gloomy wretch would show it him

In such most dismal colors, that the shrew,

Or slut, or idiot, or the gossip spouse,

Were each an heaven, compared to such a life!'"

"There are always two sides to a question," the bachelor-"defendant"

may affirm, in answer to this; and possibly himself try a hand at a

contrast-parody.

* * * * *

There are a good many proverbs that will not stand a very close

analysis; and some one who is of this way of thinking has selected a

few examples, by way of illustration. The following are specimens:

"_The more the merrier._"--Not so, "by a jug-full," one hand, for

example, is quite enough in a purse.

"_He that runs fastest gets most ground._"--Not exactly; for then

footmen would get more than their masters.

"_He runs far who never turns._"--"Not quite: he may break his neck

in a short course.

"_No man can call again yesterday._"--Yes, he may _call_ till his

heart ache, though it may never come.

"_He that goes softly goes safely._"--Not among thieves.

"_Nothing hurts the stomach more than surfeiting._"--Yes; _lack_ of

meat.

"_Nothing is hard to a willing mind._"--Surely; for every body is

willing to get money, but to many it is hard.

"_None so blind as those that will not see._"--Yes; those who _can

not_ see.

"_Nothing but what is good for something._"--"Nothing" isn't good

for _any_ thing.

"_Nothing but what has an end._"--A ring hath no end; for it is

round.

"_Money is a great comfort._"--But not when it brings a thief to the

State Prison.

"_The world is a long journey._"--Not always; for the sun goes over

it every day.

"_It is a great way to the bottom of the sea._"--Not at all; it is

merely "a stone's throw."

"_A friend is best found in adversity._"--"No, sir;" for then there

are none to be found.

"_The pride of the rich makes the labor of the poor._"--By no manner

of means. The labor of the poor makes the pride of the rich.

* * * * *

The following lines, accompanying a trifling present, are not an

unworthy model for those who wish to say a kind word in the most

felicitous way:

"Not want of heart, but want of art

Hath made my gift so small;

Then, loving heart, take hearty love,

To make amends for all.

Take gift with heart, and heart with gift,

Let will supply my want;

For willing heart, nor hearty will,

Nor is, nor shall be scant."

Please to observe how adroitly an unforced play upon words is

embodied in these eight lines.

* * * * *

There is "more truth than poetry" in the subjoined _Extract from a

Modern Dictionary._

_The Grave._--An ugly hole in the ground, which lovers and poets

very often wish they were in, but at the same time take precious

good care to keep out of.

_Constable._--A species of snapping-turtle.

_Modesty._--A beautiful flower, that flourishes only in secret

places.

_Lawyer._--A learned gentleman who rescues your estate from the

hands of your opponent, and keeps it himself.

_"My Dear."_--An expression used by man and wife at the commencement

of a quarrel.

_"Joining Hands" in Matrimony._--A custom arising from the practice

of pugilists shaking hands before they begin to fight.

_"Watchman."_--A man employed by the corporation to sleep in the

open air.

_Laughter._--A singular contortion of the human countenance, when a

friend, on a rainy day, suddenly claims his umbrella.

_Dentist._--A person who finds work for his own teeth by taking out

those of other people.

* * * * *

A singular anecdote of Thomas Chittenden the first Governor of the

State of Vermont, has found its way into our capacious receptacle.

"Mum," said he, one night (his usual way of addressing his wife),

"Mum, who is that stepping so softly in the kitchen?"

It was midnight, and every soul in the house was asleep, save the

Governor and his companion. He left his bed as stealthily as he

possibly could, followed the intruder into the cellar, and, without

himself being perceived, heard him taking large pieces of pork out

of his meat-barrel, and stowing them away in a bag.

"Who's there?" exclaimed the Governor, in a stern, stentorian voice,

as the intruder began to make preparations to "be off."

The thief shrank back into the corner, as mute as a dead man.

"Bring a candle, Mum!"

The Governor's wife went for the light.

"What are you waiting for, Mr. Robber, Thief, or whatever your

Christian-name may be?" said the Governor.

The guilty culprit shook as if his very joints would be sundered.

"Come, sir," continued Governor Chittenden, "fill up your sack and

be off, and don't be going round disturbing honest people so often,

when they want to be taking their repose."

The thief, dumb-founded, now looked more frightened than ever.

"Be quick, man," said the Governor, "fill up, sir! I shall make but

few words with you!"

He was compelled to comply.

"Have you got enough, now? Begone, then, in one minute! When you

have devoured this, come again in the day-time, and I'll give you

more, rather than to have my house pillaged at such an hour as this.

One thing more, let me tell you, and that is, that, as sure as fate,

if I ever have the smallest reason to suspect you of another such an

act, the law shall be put in force, and the dungeon receive another

occupant. Otherwise, you may still run at large for any thing that I

shall do."

The man went away, and was never afterward known to commit an

immoral act.

* * * * *

This story is related, as a veritable fact, of a Dutch justice,

residing in the pleasant valley of the Mohawk not a thousand miles

from the city of Schenectady:

He kept a small tavern, and was not remarkable for the acuteness of

his mental perceptions, nor would it appear was at least _one_ of

his customers much better off in the matter of "gumption." One

morning a man stepped in and bought a bottle of small-beer. He stood

talking a few minutes, and by-and-by said:

"I am sorry I purchased this beer. I wish you would exchange it for

some crackers and cheese to the same amount."

The simple-minded Boniface readily assented, and the man took the

plate of crackers and cheese, and ate them. As he was going out, the

old landlord hesitatingly reminded him that he hadn't _paid_ for

them.

"Yes, I did," said the customer; "I gave you the beer for 'em."

"Vell den, I knowsh dat; but den you haven't give me de monish for

de _beersh_."

"But I didn't _take_ the beer: there stands the same bottle now!"

The old tavern-keeper was astounded. He looked sedate and confused;

but all to no purpose was his laborious thinking. The case was still

a mystery.

"Vell den," said he, at length, "I don't zee how it ish: I got de

beersh--yaäs, I _got_ de beersh; but den, same times, I got no

monish! Vell, you _keeps_ de grackers--und--gheese; but I don't want

any more o' your gustoms. You can keeps away from my davern!"

* * * * *

Some years ago, at the Hartford (Conn.) Retreat for the Insane,

under the excellent management of Doctor B----, a party used

occasionally to be given, to which those who are called "sane" were

also invited; and as they mingled together in conversation,

promenading, dancing, &c., it was almost impossible for a stranger

to tell "which was which."

On one of these pleasant occasions a gentleman-visitor was "doing

the agreeable" to one of the ladies, and inquired how long she had

been in the Retreat. She told him; and he then went on to make

inquiries concerning the institution, to which she rendered very

intelligent answers; and when he asked her, "_How do you like the

Doctor?_" she gave him such assurances of her high regard for the

physician, that the stranger was entirely satisfied of the Doctor's

high popularity among his patients, and he went away without being

made aware that his partner was no other than _the Doctor's wife_!

She tells the story herself, with great zest; and is very frequently

asked by her friends, who know the circumstances, "how she likes the

Doctor!"

* * * * *

A fine and quaint thought is this, of the venerable Archbishop

Leighton:

"Riches oftentimes, if nobody take them away, make to _themselves_

wings, and fly away; and truly, many a time the undue sparing of

them is but letting their wings grow, which makes them ready to fly

away; and the contributing a part of them to do good only clips

their wings a little, and makes them stay the longer with their

owner."

This last consideration may perhaps be made "operative" with certain

classes of the opulent.

* * * * *

Is not the following anecdote of the late King of the French not

only somewhat characteristic, but indicative of a superior mind?

Lord Brougham was dining with the King in the unceremonious manner

in which he was wont to delight to withdraw himself from the

trammels of state, and the conversation was carried on entirely as

if between two equals. His Majesty (_inter alia_) remarked:

"I am the only sovereign now in Europe fit to fill a throne."

Lord Brougham, somewhat staggered by this piece of egotism, muttered

out some trite compliments upon the great talent for government

which his royal entertainer had always displayed, &c., when the King

burst into a fit of laughter, and exclaimed:

"No, no; _that_ isn't what I mean; but kings are at such a discount

in our days, that there is no knowing what may happen; and I am the

only monarch who has cleaned his own boots--and I can do it again!"

His own reverses followed so soon after, that the "exiled Majesty of

France" must have remembered this conversation.

* * * * *

Mrs. P. was a dumpy little Englishwoman, with whom and her husband

we once performed the voyage of the Danube from Vienna to

Constantinople. She was essentially what the English call "a nice

person," and as adventurous a little body as ever undertook the

journey "from Cheapside to Cairo." She had left home a bride, to

winter at Naples, intending to return in the spring. But both she

and her husband had become so fascinated with travel, that they had

pushed on from Italy to Greece, and from Greece to Asia Minor. In

the latter country, they made the tour of the Seven Churches--a

pilgrimage in which it was our fortune afterward to follow them.

Upon one occasion, somewhere near Ephesus, they were fallen upon by

a lot of vagabonds, and Mr. P. got most unmercifully beaten. His

wife did not stop to calculate the damage, but whipping up her

horse, rode on some two miles further, where she awaited in safety

her discomfited lord. Upon the return of the warm season, our

friends had gone up to Ischl in the Tyrol, to spend the summer, and

when we had the pleasure of meeting them, they were "en route" for

Syria, the Desert, and Egypt.

Mrs. P., although a most amiable woman, had a perverse prejudice

against America and the Americans. Among other things, she could not

be convinced that any thing like refinement among females could

possibly exist on this side of the Atlantic. We did our utmost to

dispel this very singular illusion, but we do not think that we ever

entirely succeeded. Upon one occasion, when we insisted upon her

giving us something more definite than mere general reasons for her

belief, she answered us in substance as follows: She had met, the

summer before, she said, at Ischl, a gentleman and his wife from New

York, who were posting in their own carriage, and traveling with all

the appendages of wealth. They were well-meaning people, she

declared, but shockingly coarse. That they were representatives of

the best class at home, she could not help assuming. Had she met

them in London or Paris, however, she said, she might have thought

them mere adventurers, come over for a ten days' trip. The lady, she

continued, used to say the most extraordinary things imaginable.

Upon one occasion, when they were walking together, they saw, coming

toward them, a gentleman of remarkably attenuated form. The

American, turning to her companion, declared that the man was so

thin, that if he were _to turn a quid of tobacco, from one cheek to

the other, he would lose his balance and fall over_. This was too

much for even our chivalry, and for the moment we surrendered at

discretion.

Our traveling companion for the time was a young Oxonian, a

Lancashire man of family and fortune. T. C. was (good-naturedly, of

course,) almost as severe upon us Americans as was Mrs. P. One

rather chilly afternoon, he and ourselves were sitting over the fire

in the little cabin of the steamer smoking most delectable

"Latakea," when he requested us to pass him the _tongues_ (meaning

the tongs).

"The what!" we exclaimed.

"The tongues," he repeated.

"Do you mean the tongs?" we asked.

"The _tongs_! and do you call them _tongs_? Come, now, that is too

good," was his reply.

"We _do_ call them the tongs, and we speak properly when we call

them so," we rejoined, a little nettled at his contemptuous tone;

"and, if you please, we will refer the matter for decision to Mrs.

P., but upon this condition only, that she shall be simply asked the

proper pronunciation of the word, without its being intimated to her

which of us is for _tongues_, and which for _tongs_." We accordingly

proceeded at once to submit the controversy to our fair arbitrator.

Our adversary was the spokesman, and he had hardly concluded when

Mrs. P. threw up her little fat hands, and exclaimed, as soon as the

laughter, which almost suffocated her, permitted her to do so, "Now,

you don't mean to say that you are barbarous enough to say _tongues_

in America?" It was _our_ turn, then, to laugh, and we took

advantage of it.

* * * * *

A pilgrim from the back woods, who has just been awakened from a

Rip-Van-Winkleish existence of a quarter of a century by the

steam-whistle of the Erie Railroad, recently came to town to see the

sights--Barnum's anacondas and the monkeys at the Astor Place Opera

House included. Our friend, who is of a decidedly benevolent and

economical turn of mind, while walking up Broadway, hanging on our

arm, the day after his arrival, had his attention attracted to a

watering-cart which was ascending the street and spasmodically

sprinkling the pavement. Suddenly darting off from the wing of our

protection, our companion rushed after the man of Croton, at the

same time calling out to him at the top of his voice, "My friend! my

friend! your spout behind is leaking; and if you are not careful you

will lose all the water in your barrel!"

He of the cart made no reply, but merely drawing down the lid of his

eye with his fore-finger, "went on his way rejoicing."

* * * * *

The following epigram was written upon a certain individual who has

rendered himself _notorious_, if not _famous_, in these parts. His

name we suppress, leaving it to the ingenuity of the reader to place

the cap upon whatever head he thinks that it will best fit:

"'Tis said that Balaam had a beast,

The wonder of his time;

A stranger one, as strange at least,

The subject of my rhyme;

One twice as full of talk and gas,

And at the same time twice--the ass!"

* * * * *

Among the many good stories told of that ecclesiastical wag, Sydney

Smith, the following is one which we believe has never appeared in

print, and which we give upon the authority of a gentleman

representing himself to have been present at the occurrence.

Mr. Smith had a son who, as is frequently the case with the

offshoots of clergymen (we suppose from a certain unexplained

antagonism in human nature)--

"----ne in virtue's ways did take delight,

But spent his days in riot most uncouth,

And vex'd with mirth the drowsy ear of night,

Ah, me! in sooth he was a shameless wight,

Sore given to revel and ungodly glee!"

So _fast_ indeed was this young gentleman, that for several years he

was excluded from the parental domicile. At length, however, the

prodigal repented, and his father took him home upon his entering

into a solemn engagement to mend his ways and his manners. Shortly

after the reconciliation had taken place, Mr. Smith gave a

dinner-party, and one of his guests was Sumner, the present Bishop

of Winchester. Before dinner, the facetious clergyman took his son

aside, and endeavored to impress upon him the necessity of his

conducting himself with the utmost propriety in the distinguished

company to which he was about to be introduced. "Charles, my boy,"

he said, "I intend placing you at table next to the bishop; and I

hope that you will make an effort to get up some conversation which

may prove interesting to his lordship." Charles promised faithfully

to do as his father requested.

At the dinner the soup was swallowed with the usual gravity. In the

interval before the fish, hardly a word was spoken, and the silence

was becoming positively embarrassing, when all of a sudden, Charles

attracted the attention of all at table to himself, by asking the

dignitary upon his right if he would do him the favor to answer a

Scriptural question which had long puzzled him. Upon Doctor Sumner's

promising to give the best explanation in his power, the questioner,

with a quizzical expression of countenance, begged to be informed,

"_how long it took Nebuchadnezzar to get into condition after he

returned from grass?_"

It is needless to say that a hearty laugh echoed this _professional

inquiry_ on every side, and how unanimously young Smith was voted a

genuine chip off the old block.

* * * * *

Miss C----, of the Fifth Avenue, was complaining the other day to

Mrs. F----, of Bond-street, that she could never go shopping without

taking cold, because the shops are kept open, and not closed like

the rooms of a house. Mrs. F---- thereupon dryly advised her friend

to confine her visits to Stewart's and Beck's to Sundays.

* * * * *

Some one says that the reason why so few borrowed books are ever

returned, is because it is so much easier to keep them than what is

in them.

* * * * *

The following matrimonial dialogue was accidentally overheard one

day last week on the piazza of the United States Hotel at Saratoga.

_Wife._--"My dear, I can not, for the life of me, recollect where I

have put my pink bonnet."

_Husband._--"Very likely. You have so many bonnets and so little

head!"

* * * * *

Mr. Andrew Jackson Allen, who was one of the prominent witnesses in

the recent Forrest Divorce case, is evidently an original. While

passing up the Bowery the other day, our editorial eye was attracted

by a curious sign on the east side of the street, and we crossed

over for the purpose of more conveniently reading it. It was as

follows:

ALLEN

INTERNAL AND EXTERNAL

COSTUMER.

FOOD FOR THE HUNGRY, DRINK FOR THE DRY,

REST FOR THE WEARY, AND TOGGERY FOR THE NAKED,

WHERE YOU CAN BLOOM OUT IF YOU PLEASE.

And under this was a smaller sign upon which was inscribed the

following piece of Macawber-like advice:

CHERISH HOPE

AND

TRUST TO FORTUNE.

We take the liberty of expressing our desire that Mr. Allen may be

as fortunate (if he has not already been so) in having something

"turn up" in the end, as was the illustrious Wilkins of "hopeful"

and "trustful" memory.

* * * * *

Two of our lady friends were reading, the other day, Byron's

"Prisoner of Chillon." We intended to say that the one lady was

_pretending_ to read it aloud to the other lady. No woman ever has

been, now is, or ever will be, capable of listening without

interrupting. So that at the very commencement when the _reader_

read the passage,

"Nor grew it white

In a single night

As man's have grown from sudden fears--"

the _readee_ interposed as follows: "_White?_ How odd, to be sure.

Well, I know nothing about men's hair; but there is our friend, Mrs.

G----, of Twelfth-street, the lady who has been just twenty-nine

years old for the last fifteen years; her husband died, you know,

last winter, at which misfortune her grief was so intense that her

hair turned completely _black_ within twenty-four hours after the

occurrence of that sad event."

This bit of verbal annotation satisfied us, and we withdrew.

* * * * *

Epitaphs are notoriously hyperbolical. It is refreshing occasionally

to meet with one which is terse, business-like, and to the point.

Such an one any antiquarian may find, who has the patience to hunt

it out, upon the tombstone of a juvenile pilgrim father (in embryo)

somewhere in the New Haven graveyard. For fear that it _may_ not be

found in the first search, we give it from memory.

"Since I so very soon was done for,

I wonder what I was begun for."

Literary Notices.

A new work, by GEORGE W. CURTIS (the Howadji of Oriental travel),

entitled _Lotus-Eating_, published by Harper and Brothers, is a

delightful reminiscence of Summer Rambles, describing some of the

most attractive points of American scenery, with impressions of life

at famous watering-places, and suggestive comparisons with

celebrated objects of interest in Europe. Dreamy, imaginative,

romantic, but reposing on a basis of the healthiest reality--tinged

with the richest colors of poetry, but full of shrewd observation

and mischievous humor--clothed in delicate and dainty felicities of

language--this volume is what its title indicates--the reverie of a

summer's pastime, and should be read in summer haunts, accompanied

with the music of the sea-shore or breezy hill-sides. Although

claiming no higher character than a pleasant book of light reading,

it will enhance the reputation of the author both at home and

abroad, as one of the most picturesque and original of American

writers.

_A New Harmony and Exposition of the Gospels_, by JAMES STRONG. This

elaborate volume, intended for the popular illustration of the New

Testament, consists of a parallel and combined arrangement of the

Four Gospel Narratives, a continuous commentary with brief

additional notes, and a supplement containing several chronological

and topographical dissertations. The Harmony is constructed on a

novel plan, combining the methods of Newcome and Townsend, and

securing the conveniences of both, without the defects of either. A

continuous narrative is formed by the selection of a leading text,

while at the same time, the different narratives are preserved in

parallel columns, so that they may be examined and compared with

perfect facility. The Exposition of the text is given in the form of

a free translation of the original, in which the sense of the sacred

writers is expressed in modern phraseology, and slightly

paraphrased. This was the most delicate portion of the author's

task. The venerable simplicity of the inspired volume can seldom be

departed from, without a violation of good taste. As a general rule,

a strict adherence to the original language best preserves its

significance and beauty. This was the plan adopted by the

translators of the received version, and their admirable judgment in

this respect, is evinced by the fact that almost every modern

attempt to improve upon their labors has been a failure. No new

translations have even approached the place of the received one, in

the estimation either of the people or of scholars, while many, with

the best intentions, no doubt, on the part of their authors, present

only a painful caricature of the original. Mr. Strong has done well

in avoiding some of the most prominent faults of his predecessors.

He has generally succeeded in preserving the logical connection of

thought, which often appears in a clearer light in his paraphrase.

His explanation of passages alluding to ancient manners and customs

is highly satisfactory and valuable. But to our taste, he frequently

errs by the ambitious rhetorical language in which he has clothed

the discourses of the Great Teacher. The reverent simplicity of the

original is but poorly reproduced by the florid phrases of modern

oratory. In this way, the sacred impression produced by the

Evangelists is injured, a lower tone of feeling is substituted, and

the refined religious associations connected with their purity of

language is sacrificed to the intellectual clearness which is aimed

at by a more liberal use of rhetorical expressions than a severe and

just taste would warrant. With this exception, we regard the present

work as an important and valuable contribution to biblical

literature. It displays extensive research, various and sound

learning, and indefatigable patience. The numerous engravings with

which the volume is illustrated, are selected from the most

authentic sources, and are well adapted to throw light on the

principal localities alluded to in the text, as well as attractive

by their fine pictorial effect. We have no doubt that the labors of

the studious author will be welcomed by his fellow students of the

sacred writings, by preachers of the Gospel, and by Sunday School

teachers, no less than by the great mass of private Christians of

every persuasion, who can not consult his volume without

satisfaction and advantage. (Published by Lane and Scott.)

A valuable manual of ecclesiastical statistics is furnished by FOX

and HOYT'S _Quadrennial Register of the Methodist Episcopal Church_,

of which the first Number has been recently published by Case,

Tiffany, and Co., Hartford. It is intended to exhibit the condition,

economy, institutions, and resources of the Methodist Episcopal

Church in this country, in a form adapted to popular use and general

reference. Among the contents of this Number, we find a complete

Report of the General Conference for 1852, a copious Church

Directory, an Abstract of the Discipline of the Church, a list of

the Seminaries of Learning and their officers, and a general view of

the various religious denominations in this country. The work

evinces a great deal of research, and the compilers have evidently

spared no pains to give it the utmost fullness of detail as well as

accuracy of statement. It does credit both to their judgment and

diligence. To the clergy of the Methodist Church it will prove an

indispensable companion in their journeys and labors. Nor is it

confined in its interest to that persuasion of Christians. Whoever

has occasion to consult an ecclesiastical directory, will find this

volume replete with useful information, arranged in a very

convenient method, and worthy of implicit reliance for its general

correctness.

A new edition of _The Mother at Home_, by JOHN S. C. ABBOTT, with

copious additions and numerous engravings, is published by Harper

and Brothers. The favor with which this work has been universally

received by the religious public renders any exposition of its

merits a superfluous task.

We have received the second volume of Lippincott, Grambo & Co.'s

elegant and convenient edition of _The Waverley Novels_, containing

_The Antiquary_, _The Black Dwarf_, and _Old Mortality_. With the

Introduction and Notes by Sir Walter Scott, and the beautiful style

of typography in which it is issued, this edition leaves nothing to

be desired by the most fastidious book-fancier.

Another work in the department of historical romance, by HENRY

WILLIAM HERBERT, has been issued by Redfield. It is entitled _The

Knights of England, France, and Scotland_, and consists of "Legends

of the Norman Conquerors," "Legends of the Crusaders," "Legends of

Feudal Days," and "Legends of Scotland." Mr. Herbert has a quick

and accurate eye for the picturesque features of the romantic Past;

he pursues the study of history with the soul of the poet; and

skillfully availing himself of the most striking traditions and

incidents, has produced a series of fascinating portraitures.

Whoever would obtain a vivid idea of the social and domestic traits

of France and Great Britain in the olden time, should not fail to

read the life-like descriptions of this volume.

_Marco Paul's Voyages and Travels_, by JACOB ABBOTT (published by

Harper and Brothers), is another series for juvenile reading from

the prolific pen of the writer, who, in his peculiar department of

composition, stands without a rival. It is Mr. Abbott's forte to

describe familiar scenes in a manner which attracts and charms every

variety of taste. He produces this effect by his remarkable keenness

of observation, the facility with which he detects the relations and

analogies of common things, his unpretending naturalness of

illustration, and his command of the racy, home-bred, idiomatic

language of daily life, never descending, however, to slang or

vulgarity. The series now issued describes the adventures of Marco

Paul in New York, on the Erie Canal, in Maine, in Vermont, in

Boston, and at the Springfield Armory. It is emphatically an

American work. No American child can read it without delight and

instruction. But it will not be confined to the juvenile library.

Presenting a vivid commentary on American society, manners, scenery,

and institutions, it has a powerful charm for readers of all ages.

It will do much to increase the great popularity of Mr. Abbott as an

instructor of the people.

Among the valuable educational works of the past month, we notice

WOODBURY'S _Shorter Course with the German Language_, presenting the

main features of the author's larger work on a reduced scale.

(Published by Leavitt and Allen.)--KIDDLE'S _Manual of Astronomy_,

an excellent practical treatise on the elementary principles of the

science, with copious Exercises on the Use of the Globes (published

by Newman and Ivison),--and RUSSELL'S _University Speaker_,

containing an admirable selection of pieces for declamation and

recitation. (published by J. Munroe and Co.)

_Summer Gleanings_, is the title of a book for the season by Rev.

JOHN TODD, consisting of sketches and incidents of a pastor's

vacation, adventures of forest life, legends of American history,

and tales of domestic experience. A right pleasant book it is, and

"good for the use of edifying" withal. Lively description, touching

pathos, playful humor, and useful reflection, are combined in its

pages in a manner to stimulate and reward attention. Every where it

displays a keen and vigorous mind, a genuine love of rural scenes, a

habit of acute observation, and an irrepressible taste for gayety

and good-humor, which the author wisely deems compatible with the

prevailing religious tone of his work. Among the best pieces, to our

thinking, are "The Poor Student," "The Doctor's Third Patient," and

"The Young Lamb," though all will well repay perusal. (Northampton:

Hopkins, Bridgman and Co.)

The concluding volume of _The History of the United States_, by

RICHARD HILDRETH, is issued by Harper and Brothers, comprising the

period from the commencement of the Tenth Congress, in 1807, to the

close of the Sixteenth, in 1821. This period, including the whole of

Madison's administration, with a portion of that of Jefferson and of

Monroe, is one of the most eventful in American history, and

sustains a close relation to the existing politics of the country.

No one can expect an absolute impartiality in the historian of such

a recent epoch. Mr. Hildreth's narrative is undoubtedly colored, to

a certain degree, by his political convictions and preferences,

which, as we have seen, in the last volume, are in favor of the old

Federal party; but, he may justly challenge the merit of diligent

research in the collection of facts, and acute judgment in the

comparison and sifting of testimony, and a prevailing fairness in

the description of events. He never suffers the feelings of a

partisan to prejudice the thoroughness of his investigations; but

always remains clear, calm, philosophical, vigilant, and

imperturbable. His condensation of the debates in Congress, on

several leading points of dispute, exhibits the peculiarities of the

respective debaters in a lucid manner, and will prove of great value

for political reference. His notices of Josiah Quincy, John Quincy

Adams, Madison, Monroe, and Henry Clay, are among the topics on

which there will be wide differences of opinion; but they can not

fail to attract attention. The style of Mr. Hildreth, in the present

volume, preserves the characteristics, which we have remarked in

noticing the previous volumes. Occasionally careless, it is always

vigorous, concise, and transparent. He never indulges in any license

of the imagination, never makes a display of his skill in fine

writing, and never suffers you to mistake his meaning. Too uniform

and severe for the romance of history, it is an admirable vehicle

for the exhibition of facts, and for this reason, we believe that

Mr. Hildreth's work will prove an excellent introduction to the

study of American history.

We congratulate the admirers of FITZ-GREENE HALLECK--and what reader

of American poetry is not his admirer--on a new edition of his

_Poetical Works_, recently issued by Redfield, containing the old

familiar and cherished pieces, with some extracts from a hitherto

unpublished poem. The fame of Halleck is identified with the

literature of his country. The least voluminous of her great poets,

few have won a more beautiful, or a more permanent reputation--a

more authentic claim to the sacred title of poet. Combining a

profuse wealth of fancy with a strong and keen intellect, he tempers

the passages in which he most freely indulges in a sweet and tender

pathos, with an elastic vigor of thought, and dries the tears which

he tempts forth, by sudden flashes of gayety, making him one of the

most uniformly piquant of modern poets. His expressions of sentiment

never fall languidly; he opens the fountains of the heart with the

master-touch of genius; his humor is as gracious and refined as it

is racy; and, abounding in local allusions, he gives such a point

and edge to their satire, that they outlive the occasions of their

application, and may be read with as much delight at the present

time as when the parties and persons whom they commemorate were in

full bloom. The terseness of Mr. Halleck's language is in admirable

harmony with his vivacity of thought and richness of fancy, and in

this respect presents a most valuable object of study for young

poets.

_Mysteries; or, Glimpses of the Supernatural_, by C. W. ELLIOTT.

(Published by Harper and Brothers.) This is an original work,

treating of certain manifestations on the "Night-Side of Nature," in

a critico-historical tone, rather than in either a dogmatic or a

skeptical spirit. "The Salem Witchcraft," "The Cock-Lane Ghost,"

"The Rochester Knockings," "The Stratford Mysteries," are some of

the weird topics on which it discourses, if not lucidly, yet

genially and quaintly. The author has evidently felt a "vocation" to

gather all the facts that have yet come to light on these odd

hallucinations, and he sets them forth with a certain grave naïveté

and mock Carlylese eloquence, which give a readable character to his

volume, in spite of the repulsiveness of its themes. Of his discreet

non-committalism we have a good specimen in the close of the chapter

on the "The Stratford Mysteries," of which the Rev. Dr. Phelps is

the chief hierophant. "Here the case must rest; we would not

willingly charge upon any one deliberate exaggeration or falsehood,

nor would any fair-minded person decide that what seems novel and

surprising is therefore false. Every sane person will appeal to the

great laws of God ever present in history and in his own

consciousness, and by these he will try the spirits, whether they be

of God or of man. The great jury of the public opinion will decide

this thing also; we have much of the evidence before us. The burden

of proof, however, rests with Dr. Phelps himself. Fortunately he is

a man of character, property, and position, and he chooses to stand

where he does; no man will hinder him if none heed him. Many

believe, but may be thankful for any help to their unbelief. Many

more will be strongly disposed to exclaim when they shall have read

through this mass of evidence--'It began with nothing, it has ended

with nothing.' _Ex nihil, nihil fit!_"

* * * * *

A _perfect_ and liberal scheme has been matured, for the publication

of a complete edition of the _Church Historians of England_, from

Bede to Foxe. The plan is worthy of support, and a large number of

subscribers have already enrolled their names. The terms of

publication are moderate, and the projectors give the best

guarantees of good faith.

* * * * *

Among recent English reprints worthy of notice are _Papers on

Literary and Philosophical Subjects_, by PATRICK C. MACDOUGALL,

Professor of Moral Philosophy in New College, Edinburgh. They are

collected from various periodicals, and appear to be published at

present with a view to the author's candidateship for the Ethical

chair in the University of Edinburgh. The Essays on Sir James

Mackintosh, Jonathan Edwards, and Dr. Chalmers display high literary

taste as well as philosophical talent.

* * * * *

MR. KINGSLEY, the author of _Alton Locke_, _Yeast_, and other works,

has published _Sermons on National Subjects_, which are marked by

the originality of thought and force of utterance which characterize

all this author's writings. Some of the sermons are very much above

the reach of village audiences to which they were addressed, and in

type will find a more fitting circle of intelligent admirers. There

is much, however, throughout the volume suited to instruct the minds

and improve the hearts of the humblest hearers, while the principles

brought out in regard to national duties and responsibilities,

rewards and punishments, are worthy of the attention of all

thoughtful men.

* * * * *

A new English translation of the _Republic of Plato_, with an

introduction, analysis, and notes, by JOHN LLEWELLYN DAVIES, M.A.,

and DAVID JAMES VAUGHAN, M.A., Fellows of Trinity College,

Cambridge, is a valuable contribution to the study of classic

literature. The translation is done in a scholar-like way, and in

the analysis and introduction the editors show that they enter into

the spirit of their author as well as understand the letter of his

work, which is more than can be said of the greater number of

University translations. The text of the Zurich edition of 1847 has

been generally followed, and the German translation of Schneider

has evidently afforded guidance in the rendering of various

passages.

* * * * *

The Life of DAVID MACBETH MOIR, by THOMAS AIRD, says the London

Critic, is every way worthy of Mr. Aird's powers. It is written in a

calm, dignified, yet rich and poetical style. It is an offering to

the memory of dear, delightful "Delta," equally valuable from the

tenderness which dictated it, and from the intrinsic worth of the

gift. Aird and "Delta" were intimate friends. They had many

qualities in common. Both were distinguished by genuine simplicity

and sincerity of character, by a deep love for nature, for poetry,

and for "puir auld Scotland;" and by unobtrusive, heart-felt piety.

"Delta" had not equal power and originality of genius with his

friend; but his vein was more varied, clearer, smoother, and more

popular. There was, in another respect, a special fitness in Aird

becoming "Delta's" biographer. He was with him when he was attacked

by his last illness. He watched his dying bed, received his last

blessing, and last sigh. And religiously has he discharged the

office thus sadly devolved on him.

* * * * *

The fourth and last volume of _The Life of Chalmers_, by DR. HANNA,

is principally devoted to the connection of Chalmers with the Free

Church movement. _The Athenæum_ says: "Altogether, Dr. Hanna is to

be congratulated on the manner in which he has fulfilled the

important task on which he has now for several years been engaged.

Dr. Chalmers is a man whose life and character may well engage many

writers; but no one possessed such materials as Dr. Hanna for

writing a biography so full and detailed as was in this case

demanded. The four volumes which he has laid before the public are

not only an ample discharge of his special obligations as regards

his splendid subject, but also a much needed example of the manner

in which biographies of this kind, combining original narrative with

extracts from writings and correspondence, ought to be written."

* * * * *

A meeting of literary men has been held at Lansdowne House, for the

purpose of raising a fund for erecting a monument to the late Sir

James Mackintosh. The proposal for a monument was moved by Mr. T. B.

Macaulay, seconded by Lord Mahon. Mr. Hallam moved the appointment

of a committee, which was seconded by Lord Broughton, Lord Lansdowne

agreeing to act as chairman, and Sir R. H. Inglis as secretary. We

are glad to see literary men of all political parties uniting in

this tribute of honor to one of the greatest and best men of whom

his country could boast.

* * * * *

At the sixty-third anniversary of the Royal Literary Fund, Lord

Campbell presided effectively; and, after stating that he owed his

success in law to the fostering aid of his labors in literature, he

held out hopes that he may yet live to produce a work which shall

give him a better title to a name in literature than he has yet

earned. Pleasant speeches were made by Justice Talfourd, Mr.

Monckton Milnes, Chevalier Bunsen, Mr. Abbott Lawrence, and

especially by Mr. Thackeray, who improved the event of the coming

year of the society's existence--that Mr. Disraeli, M.P., is to be

chairman of the anniversary of 1853. The funds of the past year had

been £600 more than in any former year.

* * * * *

WILLIAM MACCALL in _The People_, gives the following graphic account

of his first interview with John Stirling. "Sometime in March,

1841, I was traveling by coach from Bristol to Devonport. I had for

companion part of the way a tall, thin gentleman, evidently in bad

health, but with a cheerful, gallant look which repelled pity. We

soon got into conversation. I was much impressed by his brilliant

and dashing speech, so much like a rapid succession of impetuous

cavalry charges; but I was still more impressed by his frankness,

his friendliness, his manliness. A sort of heroic geniality seemed

to hang on his very garments. We talked about German literature;

then about Carlyle. I said that the only attempt at an honest and

generous appreciation of Carlyle's genius was a recent article in

_The Westminster Review_. My companion replied, 'I wrote that

article. My name is John Sterling.' We seemed to feel a warmer

interest in each other from that moment; and, by quick instinct, we

saw that we were brothers in God's Universe, though we might never

be brought very near each other in brotherhood on earth. Sterling

left me at Exeter, and a few days after my arrival at Devonport I

received a letter, which leavens my being with new life, every time

I read it, by its singular tenderness and elevation."

* * * * *

The English literary journals are always suggestive, often amusing,

and sometimes not a little "verdant," as the Yankees say, in their

notices of American books. We subjoin a few of their criticisms on

recent popular works. Of _Queechy_, by ELIZABETH WETHERELL, the

_Literary Gazette_ discourses as follows: "The authoress of

'Queechy' has every quality of a good writer save one. Good feeling,

good taste, fancy, liveliness, shrewd observation of character, love

of nature, and considerable skill in the management of a story--all

these she possesses. But she has yet to learn how much brevity is

the soul of wit. Surely she must live in some most quiet nook of

'the wide, wide world,' and the greater part of her American readers

must have much of the old Dutch patience and the primitive leisure

of the days of Rip Van Winkle. Doubtless the book will have admirers

as ardent in the parlors of Boston as in the farm-houses of the far

West, who will make no complaints of prolixity, and will wish the

book longer even than it is. There is a large circle in this country

also to whom it will be faultless. The good people who take for gold

whatever glitters on the shelves of their favorite booksellers, will

be delighted with a work far superior to the dreary volumes of

commonplace which are prepared for the use of what is called 'the

religious public.' But we fear that those to whom such a book would

be the most profitable will deem 'Queechy' somewhat tiresome. The

story is too much drawn out, and many of the dialogues and

descriptions would be wonderfully improved by condensation."

* * * * *

The _Athenæum_ has a decent notice of CURTIS'S _Howadji in Syria_,

which by the by, has got metamorphosed into _The Wanderer in Syria_,

in the London edition.

"It is about a year since we noticed a book of Eastern travel called

'Nile Notes'--evidently by a new writer, and evincing his possession

of various gifts and graces--warmth of imagination, power of poetic

coloring, and a quick perception of the ludicrous in character and

in incident. We assumed that an author of so much promise would be

heard of again in the literary arena; and accordingly he is now

before us as 'The Wanderer in Syria,' and has further announced a

third work under the suggestive title of 'Lotus-Eating.' 'The

Wanderer' is a continuation of the author's travels--and is divided

between the Desert, Jerusalem, and Damascus. It is in the same style

of poetic reverie and sentimental scene-painting as 'Nile

Notes,'--but it shows that Mr. Curtis has more than one string to

his harp. The characteristic of his former volume was a low, sad

monotone--the music of the Memnon, in harmony with the changeless

sunshine and stagnant life of Egypt--with the silence of its sacred

river and the sepulchral grandeur of its pyramids and buried cities.

'The Wanderer,' on the contrary, is never melancholy. There is in

him a prevailing sense of repose, but the spirit breathes easily,

and the languid hour is followed by bracing winds from Lebanon.

There is the same warm sunshine,--but the gorgeous colors and

infinite varieties of Eastern life are presented with greater

vivacity and grace.

"Mr. CURTIS'S fault is that of Ovid--an over-lusciousness of

style--too great a fondness for color. He cloys the appetite with

sweetness. His aim as a writer should be to obtain a greater depth

and variety of manner--more of contrast in his figures. He is rich

in natural gifts, and time and study will probably develop in him

what is yet wanting of artistic skill and taste.

"Of Mr. CURTIS'S latest work, entitled '_Lotus-Eating; a Summer

Book_,' the _Literary Gazette_ says:

"A very cheerful and amusing, but always sensible and intelligent

companion is Mr. CURTIS. Whether on the Nile or the Hudson, on the

Broadway of New York or the Grand Canal of Venice, we have one whose

remarks are worth listening to. Not very original in his thoughts,

nor very deep in his feelings, we yet read with pleasant assent the

record of almost every thing that he thinks and feels. This new

summer book is a rough journal of a ramble in the States, but every

chapter is full of reminiscences of the old European world, and an

agreeable medley he makes of his remarks on scenery, and history,

and literature, and mankind. Mr. CURTIS is one of the most

cosmopolitan writers that America has yet produced. This light

volume is fittingly called a summer book, just such as will be read

with pleasure on the deck of a steamer, or under the cliffs of some

of our modern Baiæ. It may also teach thoughtless tourists how to

reflect on scenes through which they travel."

* * * * *

The question whether the honor of the authorship of the "Imitation

of Jesus Christ," a work held in the highest esteem in the Roman

Catholic church, and which has been translated into almost every

living language, belongs to John Gersen or Gesson, supposed to have

been an abbot of the order of Saint Benedict, at the beginning of

the fourteenth century, or to Thomas à Kempis, monk of the order of

Regular Canons of the monastery of Mount Saint Agnes, has given rise

to an immense deal of controversy among Catholic ecclesiastical

writers, and has set the two venerable orders of Benedictines and

Regular Canons terribly by the ears. It has just, however, been set

at rest, by the discovery of manuscripts by the Bishop of Bruges, in

the Library at Brussels, proving beyond all doubt, to his mind, that

Thomas à Kempis really was the author, and not, as the partisans of

Gersen assert, merely the copyist. The Bishop of Munster has also,

singular to relate, recently discovered old manuscripts which lead

him to the same conclusion. The manuscript of Gersen, on which his

advocates principally relied to prove that he was the author, must

therefore henceforth be considered only as a copy; it is in the

public library at Valenciennes.

The last two numbers of the "_Leipzig Grenzboten_" contain, among

some half-dozen articles of special German interest, papers on

Görgey's Vindication, on Longfellow, and Margaret Fuller Ossoli, and

on the department of northern antiquities in the new museum at

Berlin. The German critic considers Professor Longfellow's poetry as

a cross between the "Lakers" and Shelley. Longfellow's novels remind

him of Goethe and Jean Paul Richter, and in some instances of

Hoffmann. The "Golden Legend" is of course a frantic imitation of

Goethe's "Faust." Margaret Fuller, too, is represented as an

emanation from the German mind.

* * * * *

We learn from the "_Vienna Gazette_" that Dr. Moritz Wagner, the

renowned naturalist and member of the Vienna Academy of Sciences,

has set out on a journey across the continent of America to New

Orleans, Panama, Columbia, and Peru. Dr. Wagner, accompanied by Dr.

Charles Scherzer, who has undertaken to edit the literary portion of

the description of his travels, is expected to devote the next three

years to this expedition, and great are the hopes of the Vienna

papers as to its results.

* * * * *

The "_Presse_" of Vienna states that Prince Metternich possesses an

amulet which Lord Byron formerly wore round his neck. This amulet,

the inscriptions of which have been recently translated by the

celebrated Orientalist, von Hammer-Purgstall, contains a treaty

entered into "between Solomon and a she-devil," in virtue of which

no harm could happen to the person who should wear the talisman.

This treaty is written half in Turkish and half in Arabic. It

contains besides, prayers of Adam, Noah, Job, Jonah, and Abraham.

The first person who wore the amulet was Ibrahim, the son of

Mustapha, in 1763. Solomon is spoken of in the Koran as the ruler of

men and of devils.

* * * * *

The University of Berlin has celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of

the nomination to the degree of Doctor of M. Lichtenstein, the

celebrated naturalist, who, since the foundation of the university,

in 1810, has occupied the chair of zoology. Three busts of M.

Lichtenstein were inaugurated--one in the grand gallery of the

University, one in the Zoological Museum, and the third in the

Zoological Garden of Berlin. Baron Von Humboldt delivered a speech

to the professors and students, in which he detailed at great length

the scientific labors of M. Lichtenstein. Some days before the

ceremony, M. Lichtenstein, who is remarkable for his modesty, left

Berlin for Trieste, from whence he was to proceed to Alexandria.

* * * * *

Görgey's _Memoirs of the Hungarian Campaign_ have been confiscated,

and forbidden throughout Austria. Exceptions, however, are made in

favor of individuals.

* * * * *

This year, 1852, the Royal Academy of Sweden has caused its annual

medal to be struck to the memory of the celebrated Swedenborg, one

of its first members. The medal, which has already been distributed

to the associates, has, on the obverse, the head of Swedenborg,

with, at the top, the name, EMANUEL SWEDENBORG; and underneath,

_Nat. 1688. Den. 1772._ And on the reverse, a man in a garment

reaching to the feet, with eyes unbandaged, standing before the

temple of Isis, at the base of which the goddess is seen. Above is

the inscription: _Tantoque exsultat alumno_; and below: _Miro

naturæ investigatori socio quond. æstimatiss. Acad. reg. Scient.

Soec. MDCCCLII_.

* * * * *

In Sweden during the year 1851 there were 1060 books published, and

113 journals. Of the books, 182 were theological, 56 political, 123

legal, 80 historical, 55 politico-economical and technical, 45

educational, 40 philological, 38 medical, 31 mathematical, 22

physical, 18 geographical, 3 æsthetical, and 3 philosophical.

Fiction and Belles-Lettres have 259; but they are mostly

translations from English, French, and German. Of these details we

are tempted to say, remarks the _Leader_, what Jean Paul's

hero says of the lists of _Errata_ he has been so many years

collecting--"Quintus Fixlein declared there were profound

conclusions to be drawn from these _Errata_; and he advised the

reader to draw them!"

* * * * *

Another eminent and honorable name is added to the list of victims

to the present barbarian Government of France. M. Barthélemy St.

Hilaire has refused to take the oath of allegiance--and he will

accordingly be deprived of the chair which he has long filled with

so much ability at the Collège de France. The sacrifice which M. St.

Hilaire has made to principle is the more to be honored, since he

has no private fortune, and has reached a time of life when it is

hard to begin the world anew. But the loss of his well-earned means

of subsistence is, we know, a light evil in his eyes compared to the

loss of a sphere of activity which he regarded as eminently useful

and honorable, and which he had acquired by twenty-seven years of

laborious devotion to learning and philosophy.

* * * * *

Among the few French books worthy of notice, says the _Leader_, let

us not forget the fourth volume of Saint Beuve's charming _Causeries

du Lundi_, just issued. The volume opens with an account of

Mirabeau's unpublished dialogues with Sophie, and some delicate

remarks by SAINTE BEUVE, in the way of commentary. There are also

admirable papers on Buffon, Madame de Scudery, M. de Bonald, Pierre

Dupont, Saint Evremont et Ninon, Duc de Lauzun, &c. Although he

becomes rather tiresome if you read much at a time, Sainte Beuve is

the best _article_ writer (in our Macaulay sense) France possesses.

With varied and extensive knowledge, a light, glancing, sensitive

mind, and a style of great _finesse_, though somewhat spoiled by

affectation, he contrives to throw a new interest round the oldest

topics; he is, moreover, an excellent critic. _Les Causeries du

Lundi_ is by far the best of his works.

* * * * *

Dramatic literature is lucrative in France. The statement of

finances laid before the Dramatic Society shows, that during the

years 1851-52, sums paid for pieces amount to 917,531 francs (upward

of £36,000). It would be difficult to show that English dramatists

have received as many hundreds. The sources of these payments are

thus indicated. Theatres of Paris, 705,363 francs; the provincial

theatres, 195,450 francs (or nearly eight thousand pounds; whereas

the English provinces return about eight hundred pounds a

year!)--and suburban theatres, 16,717 francs. To these details we

may add the general receipts of all the theatres in Paris during the

year--viz., six millions seven hundred and seventy-one thousand

francs, or £270,840.

Comicalities, Original and Selected.

[Illustration: MR. JOHN BULL'S IDEAS ON THE MUSQUITO QUESTION.

YOUNG LADIES (_both at once_).--"Why, Mr. Bull! how terribly you

have been bitten by the Musquitoes!"

MR. BULL (_a fresh importation_).--"I can't hunderstand 'ow it

'appened. I did hevery thing I could think of to keep them hoff. I

'ad my window hopen and a light burning hall night in my

hapartment!"]

* * * * *

STARVATION FOR THE DELICATE.

That exquisite young officer, CAPTAIN GANDAW, was reading a

newspaper, when his brilliant eye lighted on the following passage

in a letter which had been written to the journal by MR. MECHI, on

the subject of "Irrigation."

"I may be thought rather speculative when I anticipate that

within a century from this period, the sewage from our cities

and towns will follow the lines of our lines of railway, in

gigantic arterial tubes, from which diverging veins will convey

to the eager and distant farmer the very essence of the meat

and bread which he once produced at so much cost."

"Fancy," remarked the gallant Captain, "the sewage of towns and

cities being the essence of owa bwead and meat--and of beeaw too, of

cawse, as beeaw is made from gwain! How vewy disgasting! MR. MECHI

expects that his ideas will be thought wathaw speculative.--He

flatters himself. They will only be consida'd vewy dawty. The wetch!

I shall be obliged to abjaw bwead, and confine myself to Iwish

potatoes--which are the simple productions of the awth--and avoid

all animal food but game and fish. And when fish and game are not in

season, I shall be unda the necessity of westwicting my appetite to

"A scwip with hawbs and fwuits supplied,

And wataw fwom the spwing."

* * * * *

[Illustration: YOUNG NEW YORK HARD UP.

TENDER MOTHER.--"A hundred Dollars! why, what can you want a hundred

dollars so soon for?"

YOUNG NEW YORK.--"Why, Mother, I'm deucedly hard up. I'm almost out

of Cologne and Cigars. Besides, the fellows are going to run me for

President of the St. Nicholas Club, and I must pony up my dues, and

stand the Champagne."]

* * * * *

[Illustration: A VICTIM OF THE TENDER PASSION.

YOUNG LADY.--"Now then, what is it that you wish to say to me that

so nearly concerns your happiness?"

ENAMORED JUVENILE.--"Why, I love you to the verge of distraction,

and can't be happy without you! Say, dearest, only say that you will

be mine!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: A STRIKING EXPRESSION.

ROGUY.--"See that girl looking at me, Poguy?"

POGUY.--"Don't I? Why, she can't keep her eyes off you."

ROGUY (_poking Poguy in the waistcoat_).--"What women care for, my

boy, isn't Features, but Expression!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: SCENE IN A FASHIONABLE LADIES' GROGGERY.

YOUNG LADY "couldn't take any thing--only a Pine-apple Ice"--but the

ice once broken, she makes such havoc upon pies, tongue, Roman

punches, tarts, Champagne, and sundry other potables and

comestibles, as to produce a very perceptible feeling in the

Funds.]

* * * * *

[Illustration: RATHER A BAD LOOK-OUT.

YOUNG SISTER.--"Oh, Mamma! I wish I could go to a party."

MAMMA.--"Don't be foolish. I've told you a hundred times that you

can not go out until Flora is married. So do not allude to the

subject again, I beg. It's utterly out of the question."]

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE ATTENTIVE HUSBAND IN AUGUST.

EDWARD.--"There, Dearest, do you feel refreshed?"

ANGELINA.--"Yes, my Love. A little more upon the left cheek, if you

please. That's much nicer than fanning one's self. Now a little

higher, on my forehead."]

Fashions for Summer.

[Illustration: FIGURES 1 AND 2.--BRIDE'S TOILET AND WALKING DRESS.]

FIG. 1.--BRIDE'S TOILET.--Hair in bands very much puffed. Back hair

tied rather low; the wreath of white iris flowers, with foliage.

Behind this, and rather on one side, is the crown of orange flowers

that holds the vail, which is placed very backward, and is of plain

tulle, with a single hem. Dress of taffeta, with _bayadères_, or,

rather, velvet, with rows of velvet flowers, appearing like terry

velvet. The body, almost high behind, opens very low in front, and

is trimmed with a double plain _berthe_, that follows its cut. The

waist is lengthened in front, but not pointed. The bouquet decorates

the bottom of the body, and spreads in the form of a fan. The sleeve

pagoda-shaped, half-wide, and plain at top, terminated by two

trimmings worked like the edge of the _berthes_; a wide lace

under-sleeve covers the arm. The habit shirt is square at the top,

composed of lace, the upper row raised at the edge and four or five

other rows below.

FIG. 2.--WALKING DRESS.--Bonnet of taffeta and blond. The brim,

high, narrow, and sitting close to the chin, is of taffeta, gathered

from the bottom of the crown to the edge; on the sides of the crown

an ornament is placed, cut rather round at the ends, and consisting

of three rows of taffeta _bouillonnes_, fastened together by a

cross-piece of taffeta. The crown is not deep, falls back, and has a

soft top. The curtain, of taffeta, cut cross-wise, is not gathered

in the seam. The blond that covers the lower part is gathered, and

ends in vandykes that hang below the curtain. A like blond is sewed

full on the cross-piece that borders the ornament, and the points

also reaching beyond the edge are fastened to those of the other

blond, so that the edge of the brim is seen through them. Toward the

bottom the blond above separates from that below, and sits full near

the edge of the ornament. A blond forming a _fanchon_ on the

_calotte_ is laid also under the other edge of the ornament. Lastly

the curtain itself is covered with blond. Inside are white roses,

mixed with bows of ribbon. Dress of taffeta. Body high, buttoning

straight up in front. Two trimmings are put up the side of the body.

These trimmings, made of bands resembling the narrow flounces, get

narrower toward the bottom. They are pinked at the edges, and

shaded. The sleeve is plain, and terminated by two trimmings, pinked

and shaded. The skirt has five flounces five inches wide, then a

sixth of eight, pinked and shaded.

[Illustration: FIGURE 3.--BONNET.]

FIG. 3.--DRAWN BONNET, of taffeta and blond; the brim, which is four

inches wide, is of taffeta doubled, that is, the inside and outside

are of one piece. It has several gathers. The side of crown, three

inches and a quarter wide, is of the same material, puffed at the

sides for about an inch, and there are also fourteen ribs in the

whole circuit. The top of crown is soft; a roll along the edge of

the crown. The ornaments consist of small rolls of taffeta, to which

are sewed two rows of blond three-quarters of an inch wide. These

same rolls ornament the brim, being placed on the edge, and inside

as well as outside. There are seventeen of these ornaments on the

brim, with an inch and a half of interval between them. The curtain

is trimmed in the same manner, and has ten of them. The top of crown

has five rolls, trimmed with blond. The inside is ornamented with

roses, brown foliage, and bouclettes of narrow blue ribbons mixing

with the flowers.

[Illustration: FIGURE 4.--BONNET.]

FIG. 4.--DRAWN BONNET of white tulle and straw-colored taffeta,

edged with a fringed _guipure_ and bouquets of Parma violets. The

taffeta trimming is disposed inside and outside the brim, in

vandykes, the points of which are nearly three inches apart. In each

space between them is a bouquet of Parma violets. The points of the

_fanchon_ lie upon the crown.

[Illustration: FIGURE 5.--BONNET.]

FIG. 5.--DRAWN BONNET, of tulle, blond, taffeta, and straw

trimmings, with flowers of straw and crape. The edge of the brim is

cut in fourteen scollops. The inside is puffed tulle, mixed with

blond. The scollops of the edge are continued all over the bonnet,

and are alternately tulle and white taffeta, with a straw edging.

* * * * *

For morning and home costume, _organdie_ muslins will be in great

favor, the bodies made in the loose jacket style, and worn either

with lace or silk waist coats. Silks, with designs woven in them for

each part of the dress, are still worn; those woven with plaided

stripe, _à-la robe_, are very stylish.

White bodies will be worn with colored skirts they will be

beautifully embroidered, and will have a very _distinguée_

appearance.

Dress bodies are worn open; they have lappets or small _basquines_:

for all light materials, such as _organdie_, _tarlatane_, _barège_,

&c., the skirts will have flounces. In striped and figured silks,

the skirts are generally preferred without trimming, as it destroys

the effect and beauty of the pattern. Black lace mantillas and

shawls will receive distinguished favor; those of Chantilly lace are

very elegant. Scarf mantelets are worn low on the shoulders.

A novelty in the form of summer mantelets has just been introduced

in Paris, where it has met with pre-eminent favor. It is called the

_mantelet echarpe_, or scarf mantelet; and it combines, as its name

implies, the effect of the scarf and mantelet. It may be made in

black or colored silk, and is frequently trimmed simply with braid

or embroidery. Sometimes the trimming consists of velvet or

_passementerie_, and sometimes of fringe and lace.

Transcriber's Notes:

Words surrounded by _ are italicized.

Obvious printer's errors have been repaired, other inconsistent

spellings have been kept, including variation in:

- use of accent (e.g. "Léonard" and "Leonard" in p. 413-414);

- use of hyphen (e.g. "archway" and "arch-way");

- capitalisation (e.g. "Vice-president" and "Vice-President").

Pg 356, word "upon" removed from sentence "...attack upon [upon] Mr.

Dutton's purse..."

Pg 378, sentence "(TO BE CONTINUED.)" added to the end of article.

Pg 386, word "of" added to sentence "...the wish of the son..."

Pg 416, word "is" removed from sentence "Here [is] is a very amusing

picture..."