Chapter IV: Front Matter (4)

_Progression Constante de la Democratie pendant soixante ans_, is the title of a new Parisian brochure well noticed. Of the same character is the _Le Mont-Saint-Michel_, by Martin Bernard, a serial publication devoted to the details of the sufferings of Democratic martyrs. The author is now in exile, having shown himself too republican for the present Republic.

* * * * *

Victor Hugo's paper, _L'Evenement_, says of Louis Philippe's Gallery at the Palais Royal, which the heirs now wish to sell, that it has two paintings of Gericault's, the Chasseur and the Cuirassier, and that they symbolize the two phases of the Empire, victorious France and the Invasion. He hopes, therefore, that they will not be permitted to go out of France.

* * * * *

William Howitt is writing a life of George Fox.

* * * * *

Mr. Ticknor's _History of Spanish Literature_ is reviewed in _La Revue des Deux Mondes_ by PROSPER MERIMEE, of whose recent travels in the United States we have had occasion to speak once or twice in _The International_. M. Merimee is the author of a _Life of Peter the Cruel_, of which a translation has been published within a few months by Bentley in London, and he professes to be thoroughly acquainted with Spanish literature, from a loving study of it while residing in Spain. Perhaps he had some thought of writing its history himself; he certainly seems to bestow unwillingly the praises he is compelled to give Mr. Ticknor, whose extraordinary merits he however distinctly admits. "The writer of this History," he says, "has gone into immense researches; he has applied himself deeply and conscientiously to the Castilian language and the Spanish authors: he has read, he has examined, every thing that the English, French, and Germans, had published on this subject. He possessed an advantage over the critics of old Europe--that of being able to treat literary questions without mixing up with them recollections of national rivalries." He concludes his article by saying, "This work is an inestimable repertory; it must be eminently useful in a library. It comprises very good biographical notices of the Spanish authors, and numerous abstracts which obviate the necessity of reference to the original authorities. The translations, which are copious, are executed with surpassing taste, to afford an idea of the style of the Spanish poets. Thanks to the flexibility of the English language, and the ability or command of the author in using it, the translations are of signal fidelity and elegance. The rhythm, the flow, the idiomatic grace and _curiosa felicitas_, are rendered in the most exact and the happiest manner."

* * * * *

By a letter in the London _Times_, signed ERNESTO SUSANNI, it appears that M. LIBRI may be a very much wronged person. The readers of the _International_ will remember his trial, a few months ago, and his condemnation to ten years' imprisonment (in default of judgment), and deprivation of the various high offices he held, for having, as was alleged, stolen from the Mazarine Library, besides others, the following volumes: _Petrarca, gli Triomphi_, 1475: Bologna, in folio; _Pamphyli poetae lepidissimi Epigrammatum libri quatuor; Faccio degli Uberti, opera chiamata Ditta Munde Venezia_, 1501, quarto; _Phalaris Epistole, traducte del Latino da Bartol: Fontio_, 1471, quarto; _Dante, Convivio_: Florence, 1490, quarto; &c. M. Susanni alleges that the learned bibliographer, M. Silvestre, has discovered in the Mazarine Library that, contrary to the very circumstantial affirmation of the deed of accusation, the above-mentioned books _are still in their places on the shelves of that library_, from which they have never been absent, and where any one may go and see them, and verify the fact for himself. The persons employed to draw up the charges against M. Libri never appeared to understand that two different editions of a work were totally different things, and they have accused M. Libri of having stolen a work from a public library, simply because M. Libri possessed an edition of that work, though different from the one the library had lost, or, better still, which it had never lost at all. Considering all the circumstances, and the attention which was attracted to the case throughout the learned world, this is very curious: it will form one of the most remarkable of the _causes celebres_.

* * * * *

The new Paris review, _La Politique Nouvelle_, starts bravely its career as a rival of _La Revue des Deux Mondes_. The leading article, "La Constitution, c'est l'order," is by M. Marie, who was one of the chiefs of the Provisional Government, and Henri Martin, Gustave Cazavan, and Paul Rochery, are among the contributors; but the best attraction of the work to those who do not care for its politics, is the beginning of a charming novel by Madame Charles Reybaud, the authoress of Tales of the Old Convents of Paris.

* * * * *

Lamartine's reputation declines with every new attempt of his at money-making. There was never a man capable of doing well a half of what he advertises. He is writing a romance on the destruction of the Janizaries, for the _Pays_, another romance for the _Siecle_, and occasionally gives _feuilletons_ to other journals; he is re-editing a complete edition of his own works, writing a history of the Restoration, and a history of Turkey, and has lately begun to edit a daily paper. He also continues the monthly pamphlet, of between thirty and forty pages, the _Conseiller du Peuple_, on political matters, and produces once a month a periodical, _Les Foyers du Peuple_, in which he gives an account of his travels, with tales and verses.

* * * * *

The Paris correspondent of the London _Literary Gazette_ states, that an Assyrian, named FURIS SCHYCYAC, is at present attracting some attention in the literary circles. He had just arrived from London, where, it appears, he translated the Bible into Arabic, for one of the religious associations. He has accompanied his _debut_ in Parisian society with a _mudh_, or poem, to Paris, in which he almost out-Orientals the Orientals in his exaggerated compliments and gorgeous imagery. Paris, he declares, amongst other things, is the "terrestrial paradise," the "_sejour_ of houris," and "Eden;" whilst the people are, _par excellence_, "the strong, the generous, the brave, the sincere-hearted, with no faults to diminish their virtues." This master-stroke has opened the Parisian circles to the cunning Assyrian.

* * * * *

M. Leroux has published in Paris a volume of Reminiscences of Travel and Residence in the United States, with observations on the Administration of Justice in this country.

* * * * *

The last _Edinburgh Review_ has an article on COUSIN, in which a general survey is taken of his life and of his works, of which he has just completed the publication of a new edition. The _London Leader_ says that the critic ingeniously represents all Cousin's plagiarisms as the consequences of the progressive and _assimilative_ intellect of the eclectic chief; that it would be easy with the same facts to tell a very different story; and correct the reviewer's "mistake," where he talks of Cousin as the translator of Plato. Cousin's name is on the title-page; but not one dialogue, the _Leader_ avers, did he translate; it even doubts his ability to translate one. What he did was to take old translations by De Grow and others, here and there polishing the style; and the dialogues that were untranslated he gave to certain clever young men in want of employment and glad of his patronage. He touched up their style and wrote the Preface to each Dialogue, for which the work bears his name! _This_ explains the puzzling fact that the translator of Plato should so completely misunderstand the purpose of the dialogue he is prefacing. Gigantic indeed would be the labors of Cousin--if he performed them himself.

* * * * *

Walter Savage Landor is now seventy-six years of age. He writes no more great works, but he is hardly less industrious than a penny-a-liner in writing upon all sorts of subjects for the journals. We find his communications almost every week in _The Examiner_, _The News_, _The Leader_, _Leigh Hunt's Journal_, and other periodicals. Sometimes he rises to his earlier eloquence, and we hear the voice that was loudest and sweetest in the "Imaginary Conversations;" but for the most part his newspaper pieces are feeble and splenetic, unworthy of him. One of his latest composures has relation to Lord Lyndhurst, by whose speech against the revolutionary aliens in England had been excited the ire of the old poet. "In your paper of this day, April 12," he writes to the editor of _The Examiner_, "I find repeated an expression of Lord Lyndhurst's, which I am certain will be offensive to many of your readers. General Klapka, a man illustrious for his military knowledge, and for his application of it to the defence of his country and her laws, is contemptuously called _one_ Klapka. The most obscure and the most despicable (and those only) are thus designated. Surely to have been called by the acclamations of a whole people to defend the most important of its fortresses is quite as exalted a distinction as to be appointed a Lord Chamberlain or a Lord Chancellor by the favor of one minister, and liable to be dismissed the next morning by another. With all proper respect for the cleverness of Lord Lyndhurst, I must entreat your assistance in discovering one sentence he ever wrote, or spoke, denoting the man of lofty genius or capacious mind. Memorable things he certainly has said--such as calling by the name of aliens a third part of our fellow-subjects in these islands, and by the prefix of a _certain_ to the name of Klapka. It is strange that sound law should not always be sound sense; strange that the great seal of equity should make so faint and indistinct an impression. Klapka will be commemorated and renowned in history as one beloved by the people, venerated by the nobility; whose voice was listened to attentively by the magistrate, enthusiastically by the soldier. The fame of Lord Lyndhurst is ephemeral, confined to the Court of Chancery and the House of Peers; dozens have shared it in each, and have gone to dinner and oblivion. Those, and those alone, are great men whose works or words are destined to be the heirlooms of many generations. God places them where time passes them without erasing their footsteps. Kings can never make them. They, if minded so, could more easily make kings. England hath installed one Chancellor who might have been consummately great, had there only been in his composition the two simple elements of generosity and honesty. Bacon did not hate freedom, or the friends of freedom; and, although he cautiously kept clear of so dangerous a vicinity, he never came voluntarily forth, invoking the vindictive spirit of a dead law to eliminate them in the hour of adversity from their sanctuary."

* * * * *

The Rev. Moses Margoliouth, who was once a Jew, and who last year published a narrative of a journey to Palestine, under the title of "A Visit to the Land of My Fathers," has just given to the world, in three octavos, a _History of the Jews in Great Britain_. The book is insufferably tame and feeble; the author is of the class called in England "religious flunkies:" a mastiff to the poor and a spaniel to the proud. His first book was disgusting for its feebleness and servility, and this is scarcely better, notwithstanding the richness of its materials and the curious interest of its subject. A good History of the Jews in England will be a work worth reading.

* * * * *

The _Ecclesiastical History Society_ have published in London _Strype's Memorials of Cranmer_, _Heylyn's History of the Reformation_, and _Field's Treatise of the Church_. Strype and Heylyn are more familiar than Field, whose work is a sort of supplement to Hooker's _Polity_. Field resembled his illustrious master and friend in judgment, temper, and learning. In his own day his reputation was great. James I. regretted, when he heard of his death, that he had not done more for him; Hall, in reference to his own deanery of Worcester, which had been sought for Field, speaks of that "better-deserving divine," who "was well satisfied with greater hopes;" and Fuller, with his accustomed humor of thoughtfulness, bestows his salutation on "that learned divine whose memory smelleth like a _field_ that the Lord hath blessed."

* * * * *

THE LIFE OF WORDSWORTH, by Dr. Christopher Wordsworth, has appeared in London, and with some additions by Professor Henry Reed, of Philadelphia, will soon be issued by Ticknor, Reed & Fields, of Boston. From what the critics write of it we suspect it is a poor affair. The _Leader_ says that, "all things considered, it is perhaps the worst biographical attempt" it "ever waded through." The _Examiner_ and other leading papers admit its dulness as a biography, and its worthlessness in criticism, but claim for it a certain value as a collection of facts respecting the histories of Wordsworth's different poems. The work indeed professes to be no more than a biographical commentary on the poet's writings. It does not even affect to be critical, or to offer any labored exposition of the principles on which Wordsworth's poems were composed. The author describes his illustrious relative as having had no desire that any such disquisition should be written. "He wished that his poems should stand by themselves, and plead their own cause before the tribunal of posterity." Strictly, then, the volumes are so exclusively subordinate and ministerial to the poetry they illustrate, that apart from the latter they possess hardly any interest. By enthusiasts for the poems they will be eagerly read, but to any other class of readers we cannot see that they present attraction. Dr. Wordsworth's part in them, though small, is not particularly well done; and the poet's part almost exclusively consists of personal memoranda connected with his poems dictated in later life, and seldom by any chance refers to any thing but himself.

Nevertheless there are in the volumes many delightful and characteristic details, much genuine and beautiful criticism (chiefly in the poet's letters), and occasional passages of fine sentiment and pure philosophy. Here is Wordsworth's own description of one of his latest visits to London, and of his appearance at court, in a letter to an American correspondent:

"My absence from home lately was not of more than three weeks. I took the journey to London solely to pay my respects to the Queen, upon my appointment to the laureateship upon the decease of my friend Mr. Southey. The weather was very cold, and I caught an inflammation in one of my eyes, which rendered my stay in the south very uncomfortable. I nevertheless did, in respect to the object of my journey, all that was required. The reception given me by the Queen at her ball was most gracious. Mrs. Everett, the wife of your minister, among many others, was a witness to it, without knowing who I was. It moved her to the shedding of tears. This effect was in part produced, I suppose, by American habits of feeling, as pertaining to a republican government. To see a gray-haired man of seventy-five years of age, kneeling down in a large assembly to kiss the hand of a young woman, is a sight for which institutions essentially democratic do not prepare a spectator of either sex, and must naturally place the opinions upon which a republic is founded, and the sentiments which support it, in strong contrast with a government based and upheld as ours is. I am not, therefore, surprised that Mrs. Everett was moved, as she herself described to persons of my acquaintance, among others to Mr. Rogers the poet. By the by, of this gentleman, now I believe in his eighty-third year, I saw more than of any other person except my host, Mr. Moxon, while I was in London. He is singularly fresh and strong for his years, and his mental faculties (with the exception of his memory a little) not at all impaired. It is remarkable that he and the Rev. W. Bowles were both distinguished as poets when I was a schoolboy, and they have survived almost all their eminent contemporaries, several of whom came into notice long after them. Since they became known, Burns, Cowper, Mason the author of 'Caractacus' and friend of Gray, have died. Thomas Warton, Laureate, then Byron, Shelley, Keats, and a good deal later Scott, Coleridge, Crabbe, Southey, Lamb, the Ettrick Shepherd, Cary the translator of Dante, Crowe the author of 'Lewesdon Hill,' and others of more or less distinction, have disappeared. And now of English poets advanced in life, I cannot recall any but James Montgomery, Thomas Moore, and myself, who are living, except the octogenarian with whom I began. I saw Tennyson, when I was in London, several times. He is decidedly the first of our living poets, and I hope will live to give the world still better things. You will be pleased to hear that he expressed in the strongest terms his gratitude to my writings. To this I was far from indifferent, though persuaded that he is not much in sympathy with what I should myself most value in my attempts, viz., the spirituality with which I have endeavored to invest the material universe, and the moral relations under which I have wished to exhibit its most ordinary appearances."

Of the mention of Alfred Tennyson in the foregoing extract the _Examiner_ remarks, that it is perhaps the greatest stretch of appreciation or acknowledgment in regard to any living or contemporary poet in Wordsworth. His mention of Southey's verses is always reserved and dry. He takes no pains to conceal his poor opinion of Scott's. His allusions to Rogers are respectful, but cold. His objection to Byron may be forgiven. There is less reason for his appearing quite to lose his ordinarily calm temper when Goethe is even named, or for his extending this unreasoning dislike to Goethe's great English expositor, Carlyle. Yet we must not omit, on the other hand, what he says of Shelley. Shelley, he admits (much to our surprise), to have been "one of the best artists of us all; I mean in workmanship of style."

* * * * *

The London _Standard of Freedom_ remarks of the article on "Some American Poets" in the last number of _Blackwood_, that "it assumes more ignorance in England as to American poetry than actually exists." Our readers will readily believe this when advised that the critic regards _Longfellow_ as a greater poet than Bryant! whom he classes with Mrs. Hemans.

* * * * *

M. COMTE has quitted metaphysics to reform the calendar, but probably will not succeed better than those who attempted the same thing during the first French revolution. We find a synopsis of his scheme in the _Leader_. He proposes that each month shall be consecrated to one of the great names that represent the intellectual and social progress of humanity. He specializes the names of Moses, Homer, Aristotle, Archimedes, Caesar, St. Paul, Charlemagne, Dante, Descartes, Guttenberg (whom he probably thinks had something to do with the invention of printing), Columbus and Frederic the Great, as most appropriate for the designation of the twelve months; recommending, however, particular fetes for minor heroes in the months under which they may best be grouped--for Augustin, Hildebrand, Bernard, and Bossuet, in St. Paul's month; Alfred and St. Louis, in Charlemagne's month; Richelieu and Cromwell in the month of Frederic the Great, and so on. Supplying a defect of Catholicism in this respect, he proposes what he calls "fetes of reprobation" for the greatest scoundrels of history--for such retrogressive men as Julian the Apostate, Philip II. of Spain, and Bonaparte, (we don't agree to the classification, unless he means President Louis Napoleon, who indeed is not a _great_ scoundrel, though disposed to be sufficiently retrogressive.) According to this new calendar, a follower of Comte, writing a letter in March, would have to date it as written on such or such a day of _Aristotle_. We fear the proposal won't do even in France, but this, at least, may be said for it, that it is as good as the Puseyite practice of dating by saints' days, besides being novel, and Parisian, and scientific. Sydney Smith used, in jest of the Puseyite practice, to date his letters "_Washing Day--Eve of Ironing Day_;" Comte's plan is better than that of the Puseyites--almost as good as Peter Plimley's.

* * * * *

Among the many books lately printed in England upon the ecclesiastical controversies, is one entitled _Remonstrance against Romish Corruptions in the Church, addressed to the People and Parliament of England in 1395_, now for the first time published, edited by the Rev. F. Forshall. Biographers of Wycliffe have referred to this tract and quoted passages in evidence of the Wycliffite heresies; but they appear to have failed altogether of perceiving its larger scope, or understanding its political bearing and significance. There can hardly be a doubt, as Mr. Forshall suggests, that it was drawn up to influence the famous parliament which met in the eighteenth year of Richard the Second, and which was a scene of unusual excitement on the subject of religion from the sudden clash of the old Papal party with the new and increasing band of patriotic reformers. Wycliffe had then been dead, and his opinions gradually on the increase, for more than ten years. The author of the Remonstrance was his friend John Purvey, who assisted him in the first English version of the Bible, shared with him the duties of his parish, and attended his death-bed. He was the most active of the reformers, the most formidable to the ecclesiastical authorities. Another old MS. from the Cottonian collection in the British Museum, is the _Chronicle of Battel Abbey, from 1066 to 1176, now first translated, with Notes, and an Abstract of the subsequent History of the Establishment_, by Mark Antony Lower. This is extremely curious, and contains, besides the important histories of the controversies between the ecclesiastical authorities and Henry the Second, some very striking exhibitions of manners.

* * * * *

The vitality of SCOTT'S popularity is shown by the fact that the Edinburgh publishers of his _Life_ and _Works_ printed and sold the following quantities of them during the period from 1st January, 1848, to 26th March, 1851, viz.: Novels (exclusive of the Abbotsford edition), 4,760 sets; Poetical Works, 4,360; Prose Writings, 850; Life, 2,610; Tales of a Grandfather (independently of those included in the complete sets of the Prose Works), 2,990; and Selections, 4,420. It may serve as a "curiosity of literature" to give a summary of the printing of the Writings and Life since June, 1829, when they came under the management of the late proprietor, Mr. Cadell: Waverley Novels, 78,270 sets; Poetical Works, 41,340; Prose Works, 8,260; Life, 26,860; Tales of a Grandfather (independently of those included in the complete sets of the Prose Works), 22,190; Selections, 7,550. The popularity to which the "People's Edition" has attained appears from the fact that the following numbers, originally published in weekly sheets, have been printed: Novels, 7,115,197; Poetry, 674,955; Prose, 269,406; Life, 459,291; total sheets, 8,518,849.

The whole copyrights, stocks, &c., of Scott's works, as possessed for many years by Cadell, have now been transferred to the hands of Messrs. Adam and Charles Black. The copyrights and stock have been acquired by the present purchasers for L27,000, or L10,000 less than Mr. Cadell paid for copyrights alone.

* * * * *

ELIZABETH BARRET BROWNING has published a new poem, _Casa Guidi Windows_, which gives a vivid picture of the tumult and heroism of Italian struggles for independence, as seen from the poet's windows, at Florence, with the fervid commentary of her hopes and aspirations.

* * * * *

A novel by MRS. CAROLINE LEE HENTZ, published by Mr. Hart, of Philadelphia, has been dramatized by Mr. Henry Paul Howard, for the Haymarket Theatre in London, and brought out in a very splendid style, with J. W. Wallack in the leading character.

* * * * *

COLONEL CUNNINGHAM, a son-in-law of Viscount Hardinge, has just published in London "Glimpses of the Great Western Republic in the year 1850."

* * * * *

We shall look with much interest for the result of the new scheme for the encouragement of life assurance, economy, &c., among literary men and artists in England. To bring this project into general notice, and to form the commencement of the necessary funds, Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, one of its originators, has written and presented to his associates in the cause, a new comedy in five acts, under the significant title, _Not So Bad as we Seem_. It was to be produced on the sixteenth ult., under the management of Mr. Charles Dickens, in a theatre constructed for the purpose, and performed by Robert Bell, Wilkie Collins, Dudley Costello, Peter Cunningham, Charles Dickens, Augustus Egg, A.R.A., John Forster, R. H. Horne, Douglass Jerrold, Charles Knight, Mark Lemon, J. Westland Marston, Frank Stone, and others. The tickets were twenty-five dollars each, and the Queen and Prince Albert were to be present. The comedy is hereafter to be performed in public; and the promoters of the scheme are sanguine of its success. Mr. Maclise has offered to paint a picture (the subject to be connected with the performance of the comedy), and to place it at the disposal of the guild, for the augmentation of its funds. The prospects are encouraging.

* * * * *

The REV. C. G. FINNEY, so well known in the Presbyterian churches of this country, has passed some time in London, and an edition of his _Lectures on Systematic Theology_ has just been published there, with a preface by the Rev. Dr. Redford, of Worcester, who confesses, that "when a student he would gladly have bartered half the books in his library to have gained a single perusal of these Lectures; and he cannot refrain from expressing the belief, that no young student of theology will ever regret their purchase or perusal." The book makes an octavo of 1016 pages.

* * * * *

"TALVI," the wife of Professor ROBINSON, will leave New-York in a few days, we understand, to pass some time in her native country. She will be absent a year and a half, and will reside chiefly in Berlin. We have recently given an account of the life and writings of this very eminent and admirable woman, in the _International_, and are among the troops of friends who wish her all happiness in the fatherland, and a safe return to the land of her adoption. We presume the public duties of Dr. Robinson will prevent him from being absent more than a few weeks.

* * * * *

ALBERT SMITH has dramatised a tale from Washington Irving's "Alhambra" for the Princess's Theatre--making a burlesque comedy.

* * * * *

MRS. SOUTHWORTH must be classed among our most industrious writers. The Appletons have just published a new novel by her, entitled _The Mother-in-Law_, and she has two others in press--one of which is appearing from week to week in the _National Era_.

* * * * *

DR. SPRING, whose religious writings appear to be as popular in Great Britain as in this country, and every where to be regarded as among the classics of practical religious literature, has issued a second edition of his two octavos entitled _First Things_. In style, temper, and all the best qualities of such works, the discourses embraced in this work are deserving of eminent praise. (M. W. Dodd.)

* * * * *

Of HENRY MARTIN, whom the religious world regards with a reverent affection like that it gives to Cowper and Heber, the hitherto unpublished _Letters and Journals_ have just appeared, and they seem to us even more interesting than the so well-known Memoirs of his Life published soon after he died. (M. W. Dodd.)

* * * * *

MRS. SIGOURNEY has published a volume entitled _Letters to my Pupils, with Narrative and Biographical Sketches_. It embraces reminiscences of her experience as a teacher, and we have read none of her prose compositions that are more suggestive or more pleasing. (Robert Carter & Brothers.)

* * * * *

A _Life of Algernon Sydney_, by G. Van Santvoord (a new author), has been published by Charles Scribner. To describe the history and writings of this noble republican was a task worthy of an American scholar. Mr. Van Santvoord has performed it excellently well.

* * * * *

BAYARD TAYLOR and R. H. STODDARD have new volumes of poems in the press of Ticknor, Reed & Fields, of Boston, and that house has never published original volumes of greater merit, or that will be more popular.

* * * * *

THE POEMS OF WILLIAM P. MULCHINOCK, in one volume, lately published by Mr. Strong, Nassau-street, appear to have been received with singular favor by the critics. Mr. Mulchinock has remarkable fluency, and a genial spirit. His book contains specimens of a great variety of styles, and some pieces of much merit.

* * * * *

TICKNOR & CO. have published a novelette entitled _The Solitary_, by Santaine, the author of "Picciola." It is of the Robinson Crusoe sort of books--better than any other imitation of Defoe.

* * * * *

The _Pocket Companion, for Machinists, Mechanics, and Engineers_, by OLIVER BYRNE, is a remarkable specimen of perspicuous condensation. In a beautiful pocket-book it embraces for the classes for whom it is designed the pith of two or three ordinary octavos.

* * * * *

Among the new volumes of poems is one of Dramatic and Miscellaneous Pieces, by CHARLES JAMES CANNON, published by Edward Dunigan. Mr. Cannon is a writer of much cultivation, and, in his dramatic poems, especially, there are passages of much force and elegance.

* * * * *

MR. JOHN E. WARREN, whose pleasant letters from the south of Europe were a chief attraction of some of the early numbers of the _International_, has in the press of Putnam, to be published in a few days, _Paria, or Scenes and Adventures on the Banks of the Amazon_. He saw that magnificent but little known country under such peculiar advantages, and he writes with such spirit and so natural a grace, that we may promise the public one of the most delightful books of the season in "Paria." Here is a specimen, from the opening chapter.

"The shades of evening were gathering fast upon the waters,
when the little bark, in which we had safely crossed the
wide expanse of ocean, now quietly anchored in the mighty
river of the Amazons. Through the rich twilight we were able
to discern the white sandy shore, skirting a dense forest of
perennial luxuriance and beauty. Gentle zephyrs, fraught
with the most delightful fragrance from the wilderness of
flowers, softly saluted our senses; while occasionally the
plaintive voices of southern nightingales came with mellowed
sweetness to our ears. The moon, unobscured by a single
cloud, threw an indescribable charm over the enchanting
scene, reflecting her brilliant rays upon the placid surface
of the river, and shrouding the beautiful foliage of the
forest in a drapery of gold. Innumerable stars brightly
glittered in the firmament, and the constellation of the
'Southern Cross' gleamed above us like a diadem. All around
seemed to be wrapped in the most profound repose. Not a
sound disturbed the silence of the interminable solitude
save the hushed and mournful notes of evening birds, the
distant howling of prowling jaguars, or the rustling of the
wind through the forest trees. Nature appeared to us, for
the first time, in her pristine loveliness, and seemed
indeed, to our excited imagination, to present but a dreamy
picture of fairy land.

"At an early hour in the morning we weighed anchor, and with
a fresh breeze and strong tide rapidly moved up the noble
river, gliding by the most beautiful scenery that fancy can
conceive. The nearly impenetrable forest which lined the
shore was of a deep emerald green, and consisted of
exceedingly lofty trees, of remarkably curious and grotesque
figures, interlaced together by numerous vines, the
interstices of which were filled up with magnificent
shrubbery. We observed, towering high above the surrounding
trees, many singular species of palms, among which the
far-famed cocoa-nut probably stood pre-eminent. This
beautiful tree gives a peculiar witchery to a tropical
landscape, which those only who have seen it can possibly
realize. The trunk grows up perfectly perpendicular to a
great height, before it throws out its curious branches,
which bend over as gracefully as ostrich plumes, and quiver
in the slightest breeze. Consequently, the general
appearance of the tree at a distance is somewhat similar to
that of an umbrella.

"As we gradually proceeded, we now and then caught a glimpse
of smiling cottages, with the snug little verandahs and
red-tiled roofs peering from amid the foliage of the river's
banks, and giving, as it were, a character of sociability
and animation to the beauteous scene. Perhaps the most
interesting spot that we noticed was an estate bearing the
name of Pinherios, which had been formerly the site of a
Carmelite convent, but which was lately sold to the
government for a 'Hospital dos Lazaros.' Here also was an
establishment for the manufacture of earthenware tiles,
which are extensively used throughout the Brazilian empire
for roofing houses.

"So low is the valuation of land in this section of Brazil,
that this immense estate, embracing within its limits nearly
three thousand acres, and situated, as it is, within twenty
miles of the city of Para, was sold for a sum equivalent to
about _four thousand dollars_. This may be taken as a fair
standard of the value of real estate in the vicinity of
Para. That of the neighboring islands is comparatively
trifling; while there are millions of fertile acres now
wholly unappropriated, which offer the richest inducements
to emigrants who may be disposed to direct their fortunes
thither.

"The city of Para is delightfully situated on the southern
branch of the Amazon, called, for the sake of distinction,
'The Para River.' It is the principal city of the province
of the same name,--an immense territory, which has very
appropriately been styled 'The Paradise of Brazil.' The
general aspect of the place, with its low venerable looking
buildings of solid stone, its massive churches and
moss-grown ruins, its red-tiled roofs and dingy-white walls,
the beautiful trees of its gardens, and groups of tall
banana plants peeping up here and there among the houses,
constituted certainly a scene of novelty, if not of elegance
and beauty.

"The first spectacle which arrested our attention on landing
was that of a number of persons of both sexes and all ages
bathing indiscriminately together in the waters of the
river, in a state of entire nudity. We observed among them
several finely-formed Indian girls of exceeding beauty,
dashing about in the water like a troop of happy mermaids.
The heat of the sun was so intense that we ourselves were
almost tempted to seek relief from its overpowering
influence by plunging precipitately amid the joyous throng
of swimmers. But we forbore!

"The natives of Para are very cleanly, and indulge in daily
ablutions; nor do they confine their baths to the dusky
hours of evening, but may be seen swimming about the public
wharves at all hours of the day. The government has made
several feeble efforts to put a restraint upon these public
exposures, but at the time of our departure all rules and
regulations on the subject were totally disregarded by the
natives. The city is laid out with considerable taste and
regularity, but the streets are very narrow, and miserably
paved with large and uneven stones. The buildings generally
are but of one story in height, and are, with few
exceptions, entirely destitute of glass windows; a kind of
latticed blind is substituted, which is so constructed that
it affords the person within an opportunity of seeing
whatever takes place in the street, without being observed
in return. This lattice opens towards the street, and thus
affords great facilities to the beaux and gentlemen of
gallantry, who, by stepping under this covering, can have an
agreeable _tete-a-tete_ with their fair mistresses, as
secretly almost as if they were in a trellised arbor
together.

"We noticed several strange spectacles as we slowly walked
through the city. Venders of fruit marching about, with huge
baskets on their heads, filled with luscious oranges,
bananas, mangoes, pineapples, and other choice fruits of the
tropics; groups of blacks, carrying immense burdens in the
same manner; invalids reclining in their hammocks, or ladies
riding in their gay-covered palanquins, supported on men's
shoulders; and water-carriers moving along by the side of
their heavily-laden horses or mules."

In his excursions along the small streams which penetrate the forests our traveller met with some magnificent scenes. Here is a description of one of them:

"Now the grassy table-land would extend away for miles to
our left, gemmed here and there with solitary trees, waving
their branches mournfully in the wind, and looking like
spectres in the mystic starlight. On the outer side, a
gloomy yet splendid wilderness ran along the margin of the
stream, flinging tall shadows across the water, and adding
grandeur to the imposing landscape. As we advanced the brook
gradually narrowed, and became more and more crooked in its
course, until finally the thick clustering foliage met in a
prolonged arch of verdure over our heads.

"While winding through this natural labyrinth, the sun
emerged from his oriental couch, and besprinkled us with a
shower of luminous beams, which, falling through the
interstices of the leaves, seemed like the spirits of so
many diamonds. A more divine spectacle of beauty never was
beheld. The most gorgeous creations of the poet's
imagination, if realized, could not surpass in magnificence
this sun-lighted arbor, with its roses and flowers of varied
hues, all set like stars in a canopy of green. Sprightly
humming-birds flitted before us, sparkling like jewels for a
moment, then vanishing away from our sight for ever.
Butterflies with immense wings, and moths of gay and
striking colors, flew also from flower to flower, seeming
like appropriate inhabitants of this little paradise. But
the indefatigable mosquitoes, who were continually pouncing
upon our unprotected faces and hands, as well as the mailed
caymans, who now and then plunged under our canoe with a
terrific snort, preserved in us the conviction of our own
mortality.

"As we were moving through a wider passage of the stream, a
sudden noise in the bushes on our left arrested our
attention; in a moment after, we perceived a large animal
running as expeditiously as he was able along the banks of
the stream. We immediately raised our guns simultaneously
and fired. Although we evidently gave the creature their
full contents, yet it produced no other visible effect than
to cause him to give a boisterous snort, and then dart away
furiously into the heart of the thicket."

Here is something much more natural than Melville's introduction of Fayaway:

"Among our olive-complexioned neighbors were two young
girls, whose fine forms and pretty faces especially elicited
our admiration. The one was named Teresa, the other Florana.
The former could not have been more than fourteen years of
age, and was rather short in stature, with exquisitely
rounded arms, and a bust of noble development; the latter
was somewhat taller, and at least three years older; they
both, however, had attained their full size. Animated as
they were beautiful, they were always overflowing with
vivacity and life; their conversation, which was incessant,
was like the chirping of nightingales, and their laughter,
like strings of musical pearls. These, then, beloved reader,
were, during our stay at least, decidedly the belles of
Jungcal. At the close of every day we were visited by all
the juveniles in the place, who, in their own sweet tongue,
bade us 'adieus,' and at the same time besought our
blessing, which latter request we only answered by patting
them gently on the head. The pretty maidens we have just
alluded to, instead of shaking hands with us, were
accustomed to salute us at eventide with a kiss on either
cheek. The propriety of this we at first doubted, but the
more we reflected upon the sweetness and innocence of the
damsels, the more inclined were we to pardon them; and, in
fact, we finally began to think their manner much more
sensible and agreeable than that of those who consider any
thing beyond cold and formal shaking of hands a grievous
sin. Besides, it must be borne in mind, that this was a
sacred custom of the place, which it would have been great
rudeness in us to have resisted. Therefore, kind reader, do
not judge us too severely; for know, O chary one! that
extreme bashfulness and modesty have always been considered
two of our principal failings! One day, Teresa and Florana
invited us to take a bathe with them in the stream. This we
declined point-blank. They then charged us with fear of
alligators. This was a poser--our courage was now called in
question, and we were literally forced to submit. Pray what
else could we have done under the circumstances? When they
had once got us into the water they took ample revenge upon
us for the uncourteous manner in which we had at first
treated their request. As we were encumbered by our clothes,
they had altogether the advantage, and, in less than ten
minutes, we cried out lustily for quarter, but no quarter
would they give us, and, to tell the truth, we were somewhat
apprehensive of being drowned by them, to say nothing of
being devoured by bloodthirsty alligators. Emerging from the
water, we walked up to Anzevedo's cottage, revolving in our
mind the severe ordeal through which we had just passed, and
determined henceforth never to refuse any request, sweetened
by the lips of a pretty maiden, unless, perchance (though
highly improbable), she should ask us for our heart! which,
alas! we have not to give...."

* * * * *

An _Album_ sent to the great Exhibition by the Emperor of Austria, and to be presented after the show to Victoria, is thus described by a Vienna correspondent of the _Times_: "It contains the notes in manuscript of the national airs and dances, and far surpasses any thing that I have ever seen in the bookbinding department. On one side there are fourteen exquisite vignettes in oil colors, representing different national costumes; the ornaments in enamel, carved ivory, and ebony, are exquisite. A second album contains the works of the ancient and modern Austrian composers; the third, Austrian scenery, by different native artists. The bindings of some of the two hundred and seventy volumes of Austrian authors will also not fail to excite the astonishment--I had almost said the envy--of the trade. The whole will form a truly imperial gift."

_The Fine Arts._

During the present month there are four Public Exhibitions of Paintings in the city: that of the NATIONAL ACADEMY, of the ART-UNION, of the ARTIST'S ASSOCIATION, and the DUeSSELDORF GALLERY. The first three are composed mainly of the works of native American artists, and it is impossible to repress an expression of regret that some arrangement of union has not yet been effected, by which, at least, the works of the same men should not be exhibited gratis at one place, and for a charge at another. In the present state of things, the gallery of the Art-Union and that of the National Academy are brought into direct opposition, and this, beyond doubt, without the slightest jealousy on either side, as the works painted for the Academy and purchased by the Art-Union clearly show. But certainly the fact is lamentable enough to challenge immediate attention, and to induce a radical change. A free gallery of the selected works of artists will be very apt to carry the day against an exhibition at a quarter of a dollar of the miscellaneous and unselected works of the same men. But here we do not mean to vex this question farther. We aim at a general review of the peculiarities and excellences of each exhibition.

It is undoubtedly in landscape art that American talent is destined first to excel, and the Academy exhibition and that of the Art-Union are added proofs of the fact. The landscapes are much the most distinguishing and distinguished feature. Mr. DURAND contributes several characteristic works. His style is so uniform and pronounced that it is never difficult to recognize his pictures. We should hardly say that he does better this year than usual, but we should certainly not say that he does worse. In the front rank of this department stand also KENSETT and CROPSEY, both of whom show beautiful results of summer study and winter work. Mr. Cropsey is mainly distinguished by a really gorgeous imagination. Proof of this is to be sought in the sketches of his portfolio rather than in his finished pictures, for in these a thousand influences seduce an artist away from the simplicity and splendor of his study into a care of public approbation and satisfaction. Mr. Cropsey is as yet too much enamored of the details and even of the mechanism of his art. And this is a tendency that is fatal to breadth and largeness of impression. Yet his "Southern Italy," and a "View in Rockland County," in the exhibition, are great advances in this respect. On the other hand, the two large American landscapes at the Art-Union, while the background in one is a splendid success, and the brilliant atmosphere of the other is no less successful, yet they are too much detailed, and the interest is nowhere sufficiently concentrated. Mr. Kensett is remarkable for his just sentiment and profound appreciation of natural beauty. It is a sentiment singularly free from sentimentality, and an appreciation as poetic as it is profound. The very delicacy of his touch and style indicate the character of his enjoyment and perception of nature.

Mr. CHURCH, too, is perhaps the other name that we should mention with these two as full of hope and promise. If he avoids a little mannerism, to which he seems to be susceptible--not of course forgetting that all greatness has its own manner--and pursues with the same devotion as hitherto his studies of sea and sky, a very happy and brilliant career seems open to him. The works of none of the younger artists have attracted more attention. And the fame and position of Turner show the reward of a devoted student and artistic delineator of the peculiarities of atmospheric phenomena. We exhort Mr. Church to entire boldness in his attempts. Why should he hope always to please those who have only a vague susceptibility of natural observation for their standard of criticism? He is to show us in the splendid play of the light, and air, and clouds, that which we do not see, or seeing, do not perceive.

Messrs. CRANCH, BOUTELLE, GIFFORD, and others, take high rank among the landscapists, nor must we omit a very beautiful winter piece of GIGNOUX, at the Academy, in which the crisp clearness of the sharp air, the brittle outline of the bare boughs, and the quality of ice, are most accurately and poetically rendered.

We are arrested by the feeling and promise of Mr. RICHARD'S contributions, and the very beautiful poetic sentiment of Mr. HUBBARD'S. Mr. HUNTINGDON is not great, this year. His landscapes are not natural, and his portraits lack that vigorous moulding to which we are accustomed upon his canvas. Mr. RANNEY has some characteristic hunting-pieces. They are getting too much mannered. On a prairie, the chief interest of art is not a horse or a buffalo, but the sentiment of space. But we do not yield to any in our satisfaction at the spirit and vigor of these works.

Leaving the landscape, we find the figure compositions of the year not very successful, if we except the "Aztec Princess" of Mr. HICKS, which we understand is a study from life of a Mexican woman, but which is treated in so large, and thoughtful, and skilful a manner, that it is most impressive for character and color, and gives the key to the whole side of the room upon which it hangs. This artist exhibits also some portraits, which have never been surpassed by any modern portraits that we recall. No. 128 upon the Academy Catalogue is the most brilliantly-colored portrait upon the walls. It is treated with all the happy heroism of a master, and while many quarrel with its _spotty_ color, the initiated perceive that easy mastery of the palette which with genius is the secret of artistic success. No. 405 is equally remarkable for its vigorous moulding. This portrait shows the accurate knowledge, as No. 128 reveals the sumptuous sentiment of the genuine artist. Mr. ELLIOTT'S portraits have the same quiet truthfulness as heretofore, the same easy success, but we would gladly see more confidence in color, and a likeness more as the subject appears to the mind than to the eye. Mr. SHEGOGUE'S productions are certainly very pastoral. So sheepy are his sheep that all the figures, trees, and landscape, are unmitigatedly sheepish. Mr. FLAGG'S portraits are not successful. There is an unnatural smoothness and hardness in his works. Mr. KELLOGG'S General Scott is vigorous and effective. The action of the figure seems to require some explanation, however. It contrasts well with the monotony of its pendant, Mr. VANDERLYN'S General Taylor; but no spectator in regarding this latter work has a right to forget that it is the production of one who has grown gray at his post, and the winter of whose age has not yet frozen, and can never freeze, the freshness of enthusiasm and single-hearted devotion to art which are for ever young.

Mr. LANG'S No. 44 is a very large likeness of a very comely lady, but the work will hardly live long in the spectator's memory. Mr. ROSSITER takes the field boldly with "The Ideals, Types of Moral, Intellectual, and Physical Beauty." Except for the brilliance of color, and a certain sentiment, by which the light proceeds from the moral type, we do not much admire the picture. The difficulty with the spectator will be, we are sure, that he recalls within his own circle of friends types more beautiful for each ideal. Mr. Rossiter's portraits of his brother artists, Messrs. DARLEY and DUGGAN, are admirable likenesses, each somewhat mellowed in expression by the artist. The sharp intellectual precision of Mr. Duggan's countenance, and the bright nervous sensibility of Mr. Darley's, are both somewhat subdued upon the canvas. What we candidly say of these pictures we say boldly, because we recognize and appreciate the fine feeling which animates the artist. Mr. GRAY'S No. 54, "King Death," attracts much attention. But is it the "Jolly Old Fellow," or the "King of Terrors," or the "easeful death" of which the poet was enamored? There is something fine in the picture--a strain of Egyptian placidity permeates the features. And such colossal placidity is full of fate. There is a latitude allowed the artist in these themes. Yet we do not feel satisfied, much as we like the picture. Mr. ROTHERMEL'S No. 5, "Murray's Defence of Toleration," is a very pleasant picture of the Duesseldorf style. We like one thing in this work, and that is its preservation of the balance of history, by showing that the Catholics were not always the persecutors. The contrast of the religious repose of the rear with the jangling fanaticism of the foreground is in harmony with the differing qualities of light. It is a thoughtful and beautiful picture, Mr. FREEMAN'S 359, "Study for an Angel's Head," has a Titianesque fascination, and the earnest regard of the faces is extremely lovely. It is none the less charming that it has a mortal loveliness--if we might say so without treason to the immortality of all beauty. We have no doubt, in our own critical mind, that any beautiful woman would make a beautiful angel. Mr. MOUNT'S No. 118, "Who'll turn Grindstone?" is one of his characteristic Yankee incidents. It is very true and genuine in feeling, but the picture is too white and streaked. No. 344 is a natural and spirited portrait of the poet Stoddard by Mr. PRATT.

But we must pause here, leaving many works of which we would willingly speak. At the Duesseldorf Gallery, LESSING'S "Martyrdom of Huss" is still the great attraction. It is a work so full of careful study and skilful treatment that we are not surprised at the universal pleasure in its contemplation. We cannot in this space, however, enter into a consideration of its artistic claims and character, but must record our impression that it is not in the highest style of art--if there be in art a higher style than the adequate representation of the simple incident. The dexterous detail of the Duesseldorf pictures is remarkable, but the fault and tendency of the school is to direct imitation, and consequently to a hopeless struggle with nature. These pictures are the worst possible models for the student of art.