"SEE

THE CENTENNIAL.

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betically leads the roll. England, France, his fine equestrian likeness of Washington. Germany, Belgium, Spain, Portugal, the Neth- The pictures of Mr. Whittridge are hardly EE the Centennial, and Die;" or, if the erlands, Mexico, re-enforce the artistic ex- surpassed by any in the collection, in spirited mandate be deemed too severe,-Not to hibit and stimulate us by their example. The conception and coloring; and Thomas Moran's have seen the Centennial argues yourself un- Dutch pictures are worthy of special inspec- Hot Springs of the Yellowstone" deserves known. Of the forty millions of people in the tion. The range of their artists is marvellous; a rank among the most admirable. His nameUnited States it is fair to assume that three- but they excel in pictures of domestic life, in sake Edward Moran's "Moonlight in New fifths have painfully explored its mysteries, which they have no rivals. The French pict-York Harbor" merits praise hardly less warm. to say nothing of the many foreigners who ures are mainly meretricious, though most of The "Elaine" of Rosenthal is impregnated have gazed large-eyed upon its wonders. One them are characterized by fidelity to Nature with a certain sad melancholy that holds the goes to it as to a duty. In human proba- and felicity of coloring. Many of their figures looker with an unrelaxing grasp. Of Kensett's bility it is unlikely that any of us will take part are in a state of nudity, which would have "Conway Valley" and other charming pictin the celebration of 1976: the thousands who brought a blush to the cheeks of Eve. In the ures, of McEntee's Saturday Afternoon," now move among the Centennial marvels, and crush of human matter and the wreck of elab- of Whittredge's Autumn," of Miss E. J. wonder how their poor forefathers lived a orate costumes, one is ill-placed for a critical Gardner's, of Shattuck's, Sully's, Stuart's, hundred years ago, will have returned to the examination of works of art. With eyes fixed Allston's, and Copley's contributions, we have dust from which they came, and their children's on the special beauties of a painting, one is not space to speak. We have, however, evichildren will revisit the time-honored heights hustled out of place by the surging crowd, and dence enough to establish the supremacy of of Fairmount to renew the ancestral office of forced to take up another stand-point, which America in the little cosmos of the pictorial commemoration. One feels proud to survey defeats his view. The critic's glance must be art. In one notable spot we find the portraits the triumphs of one's fellow-countrymen; one like the flash of lightning, and can carry away of Charles Sumner- a very fine one — and of reverences the noiseless handiwork of Corliss, only the most salient features of each picture. Ulysses S. Grant, touching one another. A which, with a slight strain of its muscles, con- The variety of subject and execution is per- strange vicinity, surely. We wonder if they tributes life and motion to all the vast machin-haps the most noticeable feature of this collec- bicker through the long nights. We cannot ery of the hall. The consentaneous bones tion. This complexity leads inevitably to dismiss this specialty of the Centennial Expoand tendons of the hundred-handed Briareus confusion in the mind of the observer, and sition, without administering a rebuke to its of New England's mechanical genius leap at thwarts exhaustive criticism. For the first managers for suffering so great an excess of once into action, and proclaim, with voice time the writer felt thrilled with the love of nude figures to offend refined visitors. France vehement and not unmelodious, the victory of art; for the first time he yielded to the sensu- illustrates its licentious nature and habits, by American inventive power. From the desolated ous luxuriance of the French houris, the more its copious contribution of nude monstrosities, South comes the whirr of the busy cotton-gin; massive splendor of the Spanish donna, and — women in every attitude of lewdness, reprefrom thoughtful New England sounds the buzz the buxom lustiness of the Netherlands frau; sentatives of both sexes toying in suggestivę of the flying spindles, and the continual click for the first time he paid the reluctant tribute dalliance, lust in every possible manifestaof the labor-saving sewing-machine; from the of tears to the revelations of grief, and laughed tion. To say nothing of the insult to Art same fecund section reverberates the voice of in unison with the manifestations of painted implied in this grossness, we must dwell a Waltham, warning us of the flight of time; mirth. A quiet joy crept upon him from the moment on its probable effect on the tender from the lusty young West rings afar the shout tumbling green seas, and from the misty minds of the youth who gaze upon it wonderof the reaper, the flash of the scythe and the mountain tops darted rays of happiness into ingly. They may be ignorant of its true sigsickle, and the crash of the grain-giving mills. his heart. Mutabile semper! all is change! nificance, no doubt they are; but, in the The voices of industry call upon the sluggard From Bierstadt's "Mount Hood " to Trum- words of a member of an eminent New York man to give over his lumber, and rise to the bull's “ Washington," from Brown's lovely publishing-house, it robs their modesty of its call of productive duty. The summons is an- "Venice to Eastman Johnson's "Old Ken-maiden bloom. To the mature it is nothing, swered, and the brain and muscle of the coun- tucky Home," he turns, fascinated, bewildered. — a sight to be glanced at and forgotten; but try join in a generous gift to the world. His progress is snail-like; a gem-like picture in the heart of the young girl it may leave a One needs a month, at least, thoroughly to seizes and holds him, till in his absorption in stain that will poison her soul and her life. explore the treasures of this aggregate of na- its beauties he forgets that it has peers. The Not in its sole capacity, perhaps, does this tional wealth and fecundity. The teeming soil effect of this rapid transit through these pig- grossness seem noxious; but its peril lies suband the teeming brain vie with one another in mentary heavens is in the highest degree tle in its suggestiveness, and in the possibility the conception of marvels, and the earth sighs embarrassing and confusing. The delicate that it may sometime be related to knowledge under the burden of their welcome fruits. Far impression of one picture is suddenly effaced coming from other sources, with which, jointly, lands, under other skies, envious of the suc- by the superior force of the other; and at it may work evil. It is too late for our admocesses of the young Western champion, come, the end — ah, long-delayed and dreaded end! nitions as to this matter to do any immediate too, with their rich offerings; and semi-barba- -one seems to hold a vari-colored sea in his good, but they may possibly have a prospective rian Tunis and New South Wales, and even brain, whose shifting waves buffet and delude protecting influence; and, for the sake of our the obscure State of Orange, transmit the his eager eyes. Of the nations represented by own editorial reputation, we desire to record thriving buds of prosperity. Agriculture, the fruits of the painter's art in this Exposi- our protest against this outrage on American manufactures, science, art, and literature con- tion, we may confidently give the palm to the modesty. We expected purer things from spire in generous rivalry, to work a triumph United States, young and comparatively un- Gen. J. R. Hawley. over preceding nations. The triumph is easy; tutored as she is. We need but name Eastman for the world being judge assigns the laurels Johnson; C. M. Johns, of Pittsburgh, whose to the young Republic. Even the din of" Tubal Cain" shows rare constructive political antagonism is hushed amid the busy powers; Gilbert Stuart, whose many portraits hum of industry; and the practical asserts its easy supremacy over the ideal.

Where shall we begin the varied narrative of this magnificent exposition? Art alpha

One gathers rare amusement in the hosts that tread on his heels and entangle the buttons of his coat, in these spacious haunts of Art. The comments one hears are original and do not suffer in comparison with those from striking, and evidently proceed from those other hands; Bierstadt, who contributes "The unversed in the technicalities of Art. One Yo-Semite" and "Mount Hood." Copley is pushing lady, glancing at " Pan and The seen in many fine portraits, and Trumbull in Bacchantes," thus enlightens her companions :

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"Pan and His Bacchanates." Another, en- fresh from the spindles of a New England mill,
countering the grim likeness of Julian the and sweet with the perfume of fair operatives'
Apostate, cries, "Oh, there is Julian the hands, and pries into its warp and woof with the
Apostle!" Not to be outdone in malapropos keen curiosity of a connoisseur, weighs it in his
utterances by the rival sex, a man, facing hand, tests it with his teeth, and moves away,
the picture, "The Rising of Rienzi,". mentally calculating its market value. A. fe-
Humph!" said he; "The Risin' of Ryan's male, gay in summer costume, and with an
Eye!" Inspecting the painting of "The First air half matronly, half fashionable, scans the
Mourners," — Adam and Eve in the presence tempting goods, and tacitly calculates its con-
of Abel's dead body, a young girl and her tents as comprised in family garments. At
lover were disputing as to the sex of Eve. The the golden bazaars of Tiffany, and Starr, and
unveiled bosom of the latter was proof positive Marcus, gathers a swarm of jewel-loving
to all others; but the bickering twain could women, drinking in the beauty of the lovely
not reach an agreement. In the Brazilian de- yet unattainable gem. "Oh, for the glint of
partment are silk-worms and the appurtenances that elegant bracelet on my shapely arm!"
of silk-making, the process of which involves How Charles would admire the flashing
boiling. A rustic, gazing on these with wide-radiance of that glorious diamond solitaire!"
eyed wonder, finally demanded, Why, what" Pa shall surely buy for me that twelve thou-
in the world are they cooking here?" Though sand gem!" And so sighed and coveted and
one may not get much enlightenment from the
promiscuous observations on the pictures
dropped by the passing crowd, one gets abun-
dant entertainment in their average imperti-
nence and malapropos. The mass of visitors,
—who, as one may imagine, are not of deep
culture, wandered about with a languid and
fadé air, occasionally pausing to view some
wonder, and to exchange opinions about it
with their companions. A son tenderly con-
ducted his frail mother among the tokens of
an age and an enterprise new to her worn
eyes; a stolid husband plodded obediently at
the elbow of his espiègle, prying wife; two
lovers cooed in the corners, and tittered at
some picture suggestive of emotions like their
own. Dotting the multitude, loomed the fig-
ures of stalwart mothers, bearing stout babies
in their arms, regardless of the magnificence
which surrounded them, and deaf to the tumult
in which they moved; engrossed in soothing
the bantling with maternal pat, or sating him
with the maternal pabulum. The policy of
bringing babies into this whirl of turbulence,
having little experience with these simian
prodigies, we decline to discuss; but on first
thought we decide that it is imprudent.

longed the flippant females hungry for the ap-
pliances and appurtenances of beauty, where-
with to lure and ensnare their admirers of the
sterner sex. Through the dependent masses
of rigid silks, and the waves of effluent laces,
steer the determined pull-backs, with desider-
ant but hopeless hearts within them. Oh, to
be rich; oh, to have within my grasp these
triumphs of the jeweller's art, to be queen of
society, to be admired and envied of all!
But there are wiser lookers-on, to whom these
baubles are but lures and snares. To their
clear eyes far nobler and more beautiful are
the stark and finished products of the busy
loom, the polished proceeds of the mechanic's
bench, the evidences of God's beneficence and
man's skill. Not to those dumb and dead,
though glittering treasures of the earth, do
their hearts go in adoration: they love rather
the tributes of genius and industry that so
prodigally attest the bounty of Providence.

the Frenchman reports the fluctuating sentiment of his country, the stiff fingers of John Bull revive the bright landscapes of his sunny Kent, the deft hand of the Swiss sets forth the towering Alps and the gleaming lakes of his native canton, and the slow nimbleness of the Flemish painter painfully traces the full contour of a Hamburg dame. It is a vision of the world. We stand on the apex of Atlas, and behold the swarming bees below us. Amid this stir and tumult of life, there stand dead monitory groups to warn us of the coming end. Families of Swedes and Norwegians, pallid, rigid, still, stand grouped before the household fire, as they stood in life, not long ago. The coarse skin, the dull eyes are visible; the rude but warm costumes clothe those rough but strong figures, gathered it may be for some rustic sports, or for the solemn offices funereal. There are lessons in these grave tableaux. They were here but a moment ago; they have done their tasks, and they are gone. They stand as they lived, types of a life that waned in the cold North, and that has partly infused itself into the genial atmosphere of the American North-West. A more touching and suggestive spectacle than these family groups present we do not know; and we do not wonder at the array of thoughtful, quiet faces that are gathered around to behold them.

The most beautiful and effective of all the Centennial buildings — though nearly all are models of architectural symmetry and grace — is the Memorial Hall, already spoken of. Its artistic decorations have already been descanted on, and a faint idea of its pigmentary attractions has been conveyed. We leave it with the concluding remark that a wiser and more rigid discrimination in the selection of its pictures would have produced far happier It would be a weary, tiring task to attempt results. The name of its paintings is Legion, to enumerate the classes of goods, bijouterie, and decimation would have been their most articles of use and ornament, that are so lav-politic treatment. ishly scattered through these expansive halls: strong must be the pen, steady the nerves, and enduring the muscle of the chronicler who would essay this task. The wealth of Ormus and of Ind invites him; the products of the thousand mills confront, and the domestic insignia of a score of diverse peoples confuse and bewilder him. He is non-plussed; where to begin; how to end: he abandons the enterprise, discomfited.

The usual programme of visitors is to begin with an examination of the Main Building, with its singularly miscellaneous contents.

The Main Building seemed to be the favorite resort, the ample floors within its graceful rafters, being densely populated at all times. The riches of this repository were bewildering in their mass and variety. Looking at a sumptuous suite of apartments, your eyes fall upon a glittering cabinet of gems, and through the gossamer veil of plenteous laces fasten themselves on sturdy silks at $84 per yard. How many fond husbands, we wonder, pledged themselves to pleading wives, to the purchase This is a long two days' task, and the tourist's of one of these imperial costumes! Messrs. Shoddy and Porcine were present with plethoric pocket-books, and to them the tractatory the demands of his inquisitive mind. The power of these treasures was irresistible. The deed accomplished, he passes to the noble Megreat halls offered fine fields for the study of morial Hall and the Department of Art. But human nature. How differently we are im- we have tarried there till the flesh and spirit of pressed by the same spectacles! A brisk, our readers are weak, and we forbear to dwell bright, inquiring man in a neat suit of pepper-longer on the pictorial messages of all the naand-salt tweed, sidles up to a bale of sheeting tions of the world, where the facile brush of

interest wanes as the sun sinks in the west,
and his weary limbs are sullenly disposed to

The majority of Centennial visitors occupy rooms in private houses down town, where they breakfast and dine, taking lunch on the Centennial grounds. Where to perform this enjoyable ceremony is a question which perplexes many. The most pretentious restaurant on the grounds is "Les Trois Frères au Provençaux;" but alas! their charges are exorbitant. For bringing you a cup of coffee their fee is ten cents, and all viands and services are taxed at proportionate rates. Their establishment was avoided or visited only once by all sensible visitors. Next, perhaps, in rank is the Vienna Bakery of Messrs. Flamm & Fleishmann, who felicitously show the Austrian method of defrauding. Their menu is extremely simple, but extremely dear. Two bits of Vienna bread, shaped in a crescent-like form (suggesting an ample repast "in a horn"), and a cup of coffee in which the white of an egg is the succedaneum of cream, - for these dainties - -we will do the firm the kindness of saying that they are very delicious—the guest is mulcted

NOTES AND QUERIES.

in the sum of thirty-five cents, twenty-five for trated their good taste and vast resources, and
the coffee and ten for the bread. Lauber's was an honor to the nation which they repre-
restaurant promised to be a pleasant resort; sent.
but fire damaged it so as to render it useless
for a long time. Scattered over the grounds
are various places of refection, more or less
attractive; and in the main building is a res-
taurant conducted by the Lelands, where one
may get a comfortable repast for a reasonable
price. Apple and pea-nut marts, on a small
scale, abound. The sale of liquor is not per-
mitted on the grounds, and one can hardly
find a glass of beer wherewith to cool his
parched lips.

A word should be said for the Pennsylvania Railroad, which has provided most effectually for the needs of the visitor. Not only does it bear him safely, swiftly, and comfortably to his destination, but it enables him, by means of frequent crossing trains, to reach any part of the Centennial grounds. The locomotive chairs that swarm in the halls, burdened with lazy ladies, are a veritable nuisance, blocking the passages, and abrading the shins of the unwary visitor.

"C. E. B.," Florence, Mass., asks where
in Carlyle's writings may be found the charac-
terization of political economy as
science." We cannot inform him.

a dismal

"I think there must be an old ballad of which this is the refrain. Scott in his novel wherein Mary Stuart is a character, and over a chapter in which her Douglass lover appears, uses the above line as a heading. I have not Scott's novels by me now, and have forgotten whether the novel is The Monastery or The

Abbot. But whichever it is, it must have been written long before Miss Muloch's poem. I had always supposed the newer to be sug

—“N. K. B.,” Baltimore, asks the weari-gested by the older poem. I hope some reader of the Literary World will be wiser than I, some question, "Who wrote Consistency, and give us the ballad entire." thou art a jewel '?" If our correspondent had been a careful reader of the Literary World during the last six years, he would have saved himself from the pain of doubt and the task of asking this question. The answer is as uncertain as is the family name of the Man in the Moon. There are theories enough, but each has been exploded like a congested balloon.

The
are

"An interested subscriber," Boston. Of the management we cannot speak in London publishers of George Eliot terms of too warm praise, with the exceptions Messrs. William Blackwood & Sons. already noted, and the possible exception of excessive red-tape in the matter of tickets and admittance. The orderliness of the multitude was perfect: not an indecorous movement was noticed, not a drunken face leered at you; no rubbish disfigured the walk; no loafers obstructed your passage. National gratitude is due to the wise men who secured to their fellow-countrymen the unmolested enjoyment of this celebration of the proudest anniversary of our land. Of the success, moral, material, and pecuniary, of this daring enterprise no doubt can remain; and we congratulate the country on its triumphant and hospitable entertainment of the nations of the earth in this amicable contest for superiority in the arts of practical use and ornament.

The line, "Be bold, be bold," &c., which in our last number we attributed to Chaucer, was written by Spenser.

"R. B. S.," Scio, 0. No revision has, we think, been made of Worcester's Quarto Dictionary since 1864, and we have no means of knowing when one will be made.

" W. L. W.," Melrose. There is no such word as " conniption " in the English language; it is of Yankee origin, and not of pure blood. We cannot tell you who is the author of "The Hermit in London."

-"F. L. C.," Chicago, writes, you oblige a reader by answering in issue, who was or is the author of of Creation'?

·

"Will a future Vestiges

A word about Philadelphia must bring this perhaps prolix story to a close. The city, like Midas, has filled its capacious pocket; many millions have been dropped into its coffers, "In an advertisement to the second Ameriand, what with its pecuniary gain and conscious can Edition published by Wiley & Putnam, pride of success, it may well rejoice with ex- New York, about 1845, Sir Richard Vyvyan, ceeding great joy. But it is not faultless. It Bart., F. R. S., &c., is said to be the author. He did, unconsciously no doubt, but yet culpably, is not so named, however, by Allibone, or by any imperil the lives of its guests by exposing authority I can find, nor does his name appear them to dangerous illness, through its grossly on the title-page or elsewhere in the work." defective drainage, and consequent miasmatic diseases. The excretions of the water-closets ooze upon the sidewalks; the cleansing streams of water from the house-pipes have dwindled to the size of a knitting-needle, and effluvia ineffably offensive pervade the homes. A reform of this iniquity seems imperative: we trust that the City Fathers will see to it that it is done at once.

Of the exhibition of books by the American book-trade, we have left ourselves no space to speak. Suffice it to say that it happily illus

The latest authority on this question is the Countess of Caithness. She says in her recent book that "Vestiges of Creation" was surely written by a lady.

66

MINOR BOOK NOTICES.

66

"The Story of Our Country " is told by Mrs. L. B. Monroe, with full success. She narrates, in colloquial form, a conversation with her two children. The narrative is divided into episodes, beginning with the voyages of Columbus, to which she gives too much space in proportion, and proceeds through the colonization of Virginia, the Mayflower's " voyage, &c. She writes in an easy, pleasant, humorous style, skilfully imparting useful instruction to the little listeners. The volume conveys a clear idea of the history of our country in a very agreeable form. It is neatly printed, and contains very good illustrations. [Lockwood, Brooks, & Co.]

-The Centennial Guide of Messrs Lippincott & Co. has had a wonderful sale; not less than two hundred thousand copies, a few weeks ago. It contains a great amount of just the information needed by the visitor, put in the most accessible form. Its contents comprise many useful particulars about Philaand the Centennial territory, a list of the delphia and its environs, a fine map of the city buildings, hotels, public institutions, railway tables, &c. Messrs. Porter & Coates' Official Guide-Book is more comprehensive, giving in substance a history of Philadelphia, and its publie organizations and institutions, an elaborate account of the Centennial celebration and the buildings. The historical part of it is well written, and one reads it with real pleasure. The same house has issued new and very fine Several good illustrations add interest to it. editions of Don Quixote and The Scottish Chiefs." The latter is by that admirable writer, Jane Porter, and deals intelligently and history. Among the actors are some of the graphically with a critical period in Scottish most famous men of the time, - Bruce, Sir William Wallace, Murray, Lennox, and Mar. The volume is a very handsome one of 740 pages, and contains fine illustrations.

46

- Charles Jervais's translation of "The Adventures of Don Quixote de la Mancha " has been published by Porter & Coates in very handsome form. We need not say that this is Some time ago a correspondent informed one of the most delightful books ever put into us that the long-mooted line, 'Consistency, print, and that Cervantes, the author, ranks at thou art a jewel," might be found in the Galig- the head of Spanish, and as the peer of all, nani edition of Thomas Moore's poems. An-writers of fiction. The solemn chivalry of the other correspondent now writes that his copy of that book, in which only one leaf is missing, contains no such line.

Bayard Taylor has written a very interesting book, called "Boys of Other Countries," in which juvenile life in foreign lands is skilfully illustrated in narratives and stories. Many of these are very entertaining, and not only amuse but also convey a good deal of information about different countries." Jon of Iceland" is especially meritorious. The volume is handsomely printed, and contains fine illustrations. [G. P. Putnam's Sons; Lee & Shepard.]

We have never been able to bestow very higher-minded a sacred dignity, is the belief re-applies material to new uses; but apparwarm praise on Mr. George H. Calvert's that by it we are daily making clearer and ently by him nothing is ever really lost, nothpoetry; but it gives us pleasure to commend clearer the ways of that Infinite Power, the ing thrown away." [Harper & Brothers; his efforts in what seems to be a more congen- features of that Divine Image, which all things Lockwood, Brooks, & Co.] ial field. He has written a pleasant and critical shadow forth." [D. Appleton & Co.] life of Rubens, which comprises not only much information about that great painter, but also many particulars as to the state of art in his day. The biography is very interesting. Almost as many cities have competed for the honor of Rubens's nativity as claimed to be the birth-place of Homer; but Mr. Calvert seems to settle the question in favor of Antwerp. The letter of his mother, striving to secure the pardon of her husband convicted of a heinous crime, is one of the most pathetic and remarkable compositions in history. The good fortune of Rubens, his high birth and riches, constituted him an exception in the indigent guild of artists; and his brilliant career in the courts of Mantua and Spain made him eminent, not only in the ranks of painters, but in the honorable roll of chivalry. Mr. Calvert writes with intelligence and enthusiasm about art, the student of which may find much instruction in his pages. [Lee & Shepard.]

Messrs. Holt & Co. have issued in a handsome volume "Twenty Poems," by the late R. K. Weeks. A large majority of them treat of Nature with delicate taste and fine grace. They are distinctively meditative, and report the emotions of a fine spirit under the influence of Nature. "Andromeda" is a strong and impressive dramatic poem.

One gets a world of counsel and comfort from Miss Muloch's novels. She seems to put her heart in them, and from the vicissitudes of every-day life draws lessons that linger and impress. "The Laurel Bush" is a simple little story, with common-place scenery, and few characters. The two chief of the latter, however, are very marked and individual, illustrating, as only Miss Muloch can make them do, the whitest virtues of the soul. In a Scotch family live Robert Roy, tutor, and Fortune Williams, governess, to the children of the house. For some years they have met daily; but not a word or hint of mutual attachment was ever breathed between them. Suddenly he tells her that he is going away, to India. Each loves the other; but neither confesses it. He departs, promising that she shall have a letter the second day. This letter never reaches her; but she shuts her secret in her heart, and toils on cheerfully. Once she sees in an Indian paper a notice of the death of Robert Roy's daughter. Long after, moved by a sudden impulse, she writes to him. An answer comes back in a strange hand. It was written by another Robert Roy, who is an intimate friend of the first. Her Robert had gone to Australia, and no one knows his address. Fortune becomes governess in a rector's family, which includes two motherless -Rev. James T. Bixby has prepared a girls. Their father asks her to be their mother work on "Similarities of Physical and Re- indeed; but she remembers Robert, and deligious Knowledge," which deserves a hearty clines the honor. Soon after the rector writes, welcome from the thinking reader. It is writ- asking her to care for his girls, and dies, leaving ten in a singularly calm and cool manner, her a moderate legacy. Established in a little shows no signs of prejudice, and seems to cottage, she leads a happy life, which at last have as a sole purpose the unification of the is interrupted by an amazing bit of intelligence. two great branches of human thought. The Chance leads David Dalzie, a son of the house author sets forth clearly the circumstances of where she met Robert, to tell her of his conthe existing hostility between Religion and cealment of a letter in his childhood, the Science, its causes and its lamentable conse- mouldy remains of which he excavates from quences. There are no new facts in this ex- the ground. One day a gentleman asks for hibit; but the old ones are arranged in an her, and, going down, she finds herself in the effective form. He argues cogently that this presence of Robert, accompanied by two boys, antagonism is quite unnecessary, basing his who call him father. But it presently appears argument on three propositions, which alone that they belong to the dead Mr. Roy. Every he deems essential to true religion, — belief of reader will imagine the finale. The old lovers a soul within man; belief in a sovereign Over- are married, and there is gossip galore. Yet soul without; belief in actual or possible rela- there is a certain- we should say cruelty, tions between them. On this rather striking if any save Miss Muloch had written it idea he makes some shrewd observations: that womanly cunning in the plot which annoys. "the sentiments of gratitude and aspiration, the One feels almost profane when Davie hints peculiarities of worship, the forms of belief that there may be a letter in his letter-box, which religious history exhibits, are just as when in fact there was, the promised one much phenomena of the world, just as much from Robert. We quote two or three scraps facts of the Kosmos, as the markings of of the woman's wisdom that enriches the a flower, or the transformation of a butterfly." He concludes, justifiably it seems to us, that science cannot cease, till religion becomes one of the subjects of its inquiry, and in a certain sense a part of science itself. "From the scientific stand-point," he declares, there is no rightful quarrel between Science and Religion. Would that this conclusion might win the acceptance of all men, and the majestic twain, Religion and Science, move in harmony through all time, spiritualizing the world and humanity." The spirit of the author is pure and strong; he writes for the good of his fellow-men in a manner that appeals to the rudest intelligence, and the influence of his work cannot but be beneficent. This fine passage ends the book: "That which makes science something more than the gratification of an idle curiosity, or a low-lived utilitarianism, - that which gives to it in the thoughts of the

-

-"Amongst Machines," by the author of "The Young Mechanic," contains full information as to the mechanical appliances used in the manufacture of wood, metals, and other substances. The writer gives due credit to American inventive genius, acknowledging England's indebtedness for many improvements in machinery. An introduction recites the great progress in mechanical power during the last century, and points out the advantages resulting therefrom. The chapters treat respectively of Human Toil, Iron, Tilting and Rolling, Wire-Drawing, Brass Tubes, &c. [G. P. Putnam's Sons; Lee & Shepard.]

says,

"was

In the preface to "Historical and Architectural Sketches," Mr. E. A. Freeman very justly complains of Mr. Augustus Hare's appropriation of his (Mr. Freeman's) articles written for the Saturday Review, which, he done without any leave from me or from the editor of the Review; and, by a further breach of the rules of literary etiquette, Mr. Hare thought proper to add my name to pieces which were still anonymous. This collection of essays is almost wholly Italian. With the author's learned architectural observations is mingled a strain of pleasant narrative in which we get a clear idea of the places he passed through, -Würtzburg to Trent, Ancient Verona, Ravenna, Trier, Aachen, Gelnhausen, Lucca, Pisa, Fæsulæ, Florence, Ariminium, Ancona, Rome, Tusculum, Southern Italy, Lombardy, Vucelli, and Aosta. One doubts which gives him most delight, the sketches of travel through the classic villages of Germany, or the terse and intelligent criticisms of architecture. The author has a quick eye for the charms of Nature, as well as for the seductive features of cathedrals, and their joint vision produces the happiest results. The first two chapters, Würtzburg to Trent," and "The Venetian March," which comprises a keen inspection of the architectural wonders of the Venetian cities, amply illustrate the felicity of story: "No one expects good looks in his combination. Mr. Freeman is an admirable sex; indeed, they are rather objectionable. tourist, as well as an intelligent critic of Women do not usually care for a very hand-churches and salient points of civilization. some man; and men are prone to set him down As a companion for the traveller, and a fount as conceited." There are women who will of information for the untravelled, his book help a man on,'- propose to him, marry has a high value. [MacMillan & Co.] him, indeed, — while he is under the pleasing delusion that he does it all himself." - In "The Two Great Commandments," missed him, even this week, after having for sermons by the learned and venerable Rev. Dr. weeks and months been with him every day; Orville Dewey, we find a hint of the old New but it was less like a girl missing her lover, England theology, that makes one shudder by who was, after all, not her lover, than a day and dream of Cotton Mather and his mulchild mourning helplessly for the familiar voice, titudinous witches by night. • Men have been the guiding, helpful hand." No amount of taught that it was natural to them to hate their sorrow need make any human life harmful to Maker; and such a Being as has been repreman or unholy before God; as a discontented, sented to be their Maker, — a Being who has unhappy life must needs be unholy in the brought them into existence, with a nature sight of him who in the mysterious economy totally depraved and utterly helpless, unable of the universe seems to have one absolute to render obedience, and yet, for failing of it, law. He modifies, transmutes, substitutes, to be doomed to be cast into everlasting

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