and country; sketches of natural history in every department; and, in general, whatever may most interest an intelligent and active child-the whole being pervaded with a healthy, sound morality. The illustrations are often very striking and beautiful; and both in them and in the text there is a genial and happy humor, which fascinates the child as well as the man. This monthly magazine is very handsomely issued for one dollar a year; and it seems to ns that this needs only be known to secure for it an immense circulation. In this volume, now collected and published as a gift-book, every parent and lover of children can see the scope and character of the publication. If they hand it to the young people, and abide by their verdict, there will never have been a Schoolfellow with such hosts of friends.

-The Paragreens in Paris; or, a Visit to the Universal Exhibition, illustrated by JOHN LEECH (Constable & Co., Edinburgh; Dix, Edwards & Co.), is a Christmas book by Dr. RUFINI, the author of those wellknown tales of Italian life, Doctor Antonio, and Lorenzo Benoni. Rufini is an Italian resident in England, and the remarkable accomplishment which enabled a foreigner to write in English with such idiomatic force and purity, in both his earlier works, is even more striking in this last little Christmas book. It meets the Punch humorists upon their own ground, and that the most national and difficult of all; and yet there is nothing in the volume to betray that it is not by a pure Punch man, except a kind of fineness which is more southern than English. The title of the book is a happy hit in the Punch way, and shows the singular familiarity of the author with the witty slang of the language. The Paragreens, of course, is simply pair o' greens, or a genuine cockney and his wife, who was a Joliffe, of Hackney, and they go with their family to Paris while the exhibition is open, and their gracious queen is visiting his imperial majesty. The good cockneys are bled freely upon every hand. They are swindled by means of their national snobbery. They love a lord as only free-born Britons can; and they pay roundly for their independence at every step. The story is another shot in the ceaseless battery of wit that blazes against the cockney snob. The material and its treatment seem to be

equally exhaustless; and this neatly-printed book, with its humorous illustrations by John Leech, who makes the social carica tures of Punch, will give Jonathan many a quiet and friendly Christmas laugh at his cousin John doing and saying precisely what his great grandfather Cockney said

and did.

-During all the brilliant literary career of Mr. WILLIS, the public has importuned him to write a novel. Why not concentrate his undoubted talent upon some large and coherent work, and elaborate his sparkling sketches of society and social character into the permanent form of a novel? Last January, Mr. Willis began to answer this question in the columns of his Home Journal, by the publication, in weekly chapters, of Paul Fane. Its success in the paper was not remarkable; but, as everything from the pen of so distinguished an author as Willis commands public attention, when it is fairly presented to the public mind, the novel-as a book -has had a large sale, and has been widely noticed. Paul Fane is not strictly a novel; it is rather a romance, or study of character. And we must frankly say that such a character as Paul Fane's is hardly worth studying at least, from the point of view chosen by the author. The motif of the book is simply republican curiosity about hereditary rank, or an effort to solve the mystery of nobility. But if Paul Fane had been a natural nobleman, so to speak, he would have been instantly upon a level with the best artificial nobleman, in his own feeling and in that of the nobleman himself. The sense of some mysterious difference between him and the English family who" would have demeaned themselves" by accepting a title, is only the difference that is felt everywhere, in all society. The finer strain of life and manner in the Asblys, is their property as men and women. It is simply the charm of a refined nature. We do not say that long cultivation and descent through generations of ease and education do not sometimes affect the later scions of a race, only that there is no law which necessarily produces such a result, as is implied in this story. Paul Fane is an artist, but not a refined man, nor truly a noble one. He is conceited, and morbid, and sentimental. He wants the inoculation of Saxon health, which the Ashlys have. An

honest-hearted lover believes in his mistress as he believes in his love. He may pause at the prospect of poverty, but he does not insult his bride even by the fancy that she would pine for the palace in the cottage. Mr. Willis's novel has a value as the work of a man who has himself curiously speculated upon the topics it discusses, and it teems, of course, with his eccentricities of manner. The style is conscious, redundant, and dainty, but it is a part of the author. There is always a sparkle upon the ink in which he dips his pen; but shall we say that sometimes, amid the cloying mazes of his later manner, we recall with regret the flexible and transparent style of the Pencilings by the Way, and Letters from under a Bridge?

-Among the most delightful pictures of the day, are the Flemish Tales of HENDRIK CONSCIENCE. (Dix, Edwards & Co.) He has a peculiar knack in setting his conceptions before you, and of giving vivid impressions of the peculiarities of the life around him Everybody who has read his pleasant stories for children, will recall the simplicity and grace of his style, and the hearty earnestness almost equal to Andersen's-with which he enters into the peculiar sympathies of the young. His Flemish Tales have the same character, save that they are addressed to adults. They are homely, natural, quiet, and not without traces of a genial humor. As the author himself says, in the chatty preface, “they are diametrically opposed to the reigning fashion; they are no medley of blood, thieves' slang, dishonor, connubial infidelity, barefaced debauchery, mocking unbelief, or destructive and morbid despondency; no, no-the demon of despair and hate finds here no place. Nature, in her unspotted freshness, has woven these tales out of humble material-here and there lighted up by the pure pearl of a human heart. To enjoy them, one must still have some poetry in his soul, for they are addressed to the finest chords of the heart, the tender sources of life-enjoyment-love to God and our fellow man." This is true; and he who make the acquaintance of Conscience, will find that we have commended him to a right pleasant and profitable friend.

-Julian, or, Scenes in Judea (C. S.Francis & Co.), is the second edition of a work which is already a standard in its kind, by the late WILLIAM WARE, author of Letters

from Palmyra. There are no literary pictures of early Christian times more calmly and carefully colored, or of a more bumane and genial spirit than Mr. Ware's works. We are glad of the indication afforded by this new edition, that there is a constant demand for them.

-The Appletons have published Milledulcta, a Thousand Pleasant Things Selected from “Notes and Queries." And the book itself, with its motto from Sir Thomas Browne's Urn-burial, makes the one pleasant thing more than the thousand it contains. The editor has a dainty skill in his selections from the mass of material in the "Notes and Queries," of which he most aptly says: In this lumber-room,' amid the 'rubbish' inherent from the Very nature of the work, gleam, so to speak, old gems, richly-chased bronzes, rare old china, or other objects of curiosity and interest." These he has selected and catalogued with excellent taste. The facts are full of interest to everybody; nor could there be a more convenient and entertaining volume at band in the myriad moments of waiting which befall every man, than Milledulcia. The publishers have done justice to the character and value of the work in the very handsome volume they have issued.

-Poems by WILLIAM W. STORY (Little, Brown & Co.). It is now nearly a year since we had occasion to notice, with special commendation, the fine and forcible poem delivered at the inauguration of the Beethoven statue in Boston, by Mr. William W. Story-himself a sculptor of distinguished merit-and amply able to appreciate justly, and to celebrate nobly, the triumph of a brother in his art. We have now to welcome a volume by the same gifted author, in which the Beethoven poem makes but one of many admirable things. Such a volume, from the pen of such a man, must not pass by us without distinct recognition. Mr. Story is no mere adulator of the muse. He is an artist in words, as he is in marble. He is evidently familiar with the most passionate and pointed of modern English poets; but this familiarity is of the kind which has less of imitation than of sympatby. Mr. Story walks in the same direction with Robert Browning, but he wears a very different costume, and seeks a different result. He clings to older theories of his art, and if he has not attained the nerv

ous concentration and dramatic intensity of Browning, neither has he made such bold innovation upon the custom of rhythm and metre. In his poem of the "Confessional," for instance, Mr. Story deals with one of those subjects in which Browning specially delights. He touches a spring which reveals to us the inner-workings of passion, of love and of hate, of happiness and of despair, in the soul of a single-hearted Italian girl; and from this spring he educes a music quite his own. This poem, the most intense in the collection, is also the most original; and it is not saying too much of it, we think, to pronounce it the most characteristic and passionate narrative to be found in the whole range of American verse. Equally original, and almost equally vigorous, is the poem of the “Beggar," while in the story of "Castle Palo," which is, however, touched with a less equal band, we recognize a descriptive power and a scenic sense at once fresh in their quality and finely cultivated.

The faults of this volume it will not be difficult to find. The music of Mr. Story's verse, still falls short of that certainty, facility, and flexible harmony, to which the greatest poets only are born, and which the simply great only achieve after years of patient thought and labor. His philosophy has not yet taken its full and definite form; nor has he concentrated his devotion upon those branches of the poetic art which will bear the best fruits for him. His meditative "Couplets" make up the least satisfactory portion of his book, although Mr. Story gives abundant proof of a native force of thought which should make his reflective poems as impressive as his poems of the sentiments are sweet, and simple, and touching.

The following lovely little romance will show how easy it would have been for us to bestow the commonplaces of praise upon a book which we believed to deserve the conscientious comments of criticism:

"IN THE WEST.

"The minster clock has struck for ten, The streets are free from maids and men ; The hour has come, and where are you? "The lights, that in the chamber shone, Have slowly vanished, one by one;

But one still shines, and there-are you! "Put out your light, and come my love! The wind sighs in the leaves above; And I beneath them sigh-for you! VOL. IX.-7

"The little brook talks all alone Unto the long, flat, mossy stone, Where silently I wait for you! "I see the swiftly sliding star,

I hear the watch-dog bark afar,

While longing here, I wait for you! "Was that a step upon the grass? No t'was the wind-stirred leaves, alas! Dear love, I wait, I wait for you! "Oh haste, the night is going by, The streets are still, and not an eye

Is watching, love, but mine for you!"' -"After years of respectful solicitation," Mr. Henry V. D. Johns, of Lanvale st., Baltimore, has obtained permission for the public to peruse the poems of the late Francis S. Key (Carter & Brothers); and Chief Justice Taney, in a long prefatory letter, has related the circumstances of the composition of "The Star Spangled Banner," of which the learned magistrate remarks, with an acumen worthy of Mr. Justice Laurie, of London: "The song has become a national me, and will, I think, from its great merit, continue to be so, especially in Maryland!" Now, it is quite possible to read or sing the famous song of Mr. Key's without a consuming desire to read or sing other poems by that poet. It is a good, honest, patriotic effusion, to which good, honest, American glasses have clinked, and American eyes moistened, in many lands; but it was not its poetry, but its patriotism, that was responsible for the emotion. The rest of the verse in the vol. ame is below mediocrity. It is a misfortune that it was not suffered to remain in the discreet seclusion which resisted those "years of respectful solicitation."

MR. MILBURN'S Rifle, Axe, and Saddlebags (Derby and Jackson), a volume of essays and lectures, is not only interesting because the author is blind, but because his mind is sweet and healthy, and beats with honest sympathy for good things. The sketches of Western pioneer life are picturesque, spirited, and dramatic; and he touches history everywhere with a vivifying freshness. Mr. Milburn's pure speculations interest us less. But the whole book has an earnest, hearty tone.

-MR. MAGOON's Westward Empire (Harper and Brothers) has precisely the opposite character. It is the turgid and superficial elaboration of the fact, that the course of civilization has been westward. The book surveys history from the beginning, dividing it arbitrarily into four epochs, and

criticizes literatures, arts, philosophies, and religions. It is the most pompously rhetorical work we remember to have seen. Its style is that of an insane sophomore, or what we suppose may be the eloquence of the Rev. Mr. Spurgeon, who is the "sensation" preacher of the moment in London, and in whose name the letter/ has been unaccountably omitted. We are not surprised to see that Mr. Magoon has edited a volume of the Rev. Mr. Spurgeon's

sermons.

-Any one who will take up Harpers' School History, prepared by Mr. JACOB ABBOTT, will read, in the introductory words, that "it is intended to be a complete text-book of general history, for the use of schools." It purports to give "a general view of the great leading events that have occurred in the history of the world," but he will soon discover, on looking over its pages, that this is a false pretense. It is, no doubt, meant for the use of schools, but it is not, in any sense, a complete textbook of general history. On the contrary, it is one of the most incomplete that we ever examined. It is divided into three parts, the first of which relates to ancient history, the second to English history, and the third to American history; all the rest of the immense field of history being totally disregarded. There is nothing in it about the Germans, nor the French, nor the Spaniards, nor the Italians, nor the Russians or Turks. As to "the great leading events in the history of the world," which it professes to describe, the greatest of them are overlooked, or referred to in the most summary and incidental manner. It is commonly supposed that the introduction of Christianity was somewhat of an event, in the history of the world; but we learn nothing of it from Mr. Abbott. It is commonly supposed that the conversion of Constantine was a considerable event, but Mr. Abbott knows nothing of it. It is commonly supposed that the revival of the arts in Italy was a great event, but there is not a word of it in the School History. It is commonly supposed that the German reformation was a matter of some importance, but Mr. Abbott dismisses it in a few lines. It is commonly supposed that the invention of printing was a great fact, but Mr. Abbott ignores it, even while making such extensive use of it. Think of a history of the world with no French revolution in

it! There have been a considerable number of great men, too, in the history of the world, whose names are indissolubly con nected with "its leading events'—such men as Pericles, Mohammed, Hildebrand, Karl Martel, Luther, Richelieu, Louis XIV., etc., etc., etc.-but Mr. Abbott does not mention them, except Luther, whom he introduces in the part relating to England, and to whose movement he gives five lines. Now all this is not teaching history, but misrepresenting it, and the schools which should adopt such a text-book as "complete," would be defrauding their pupils of valuable information. Had the work presented itself as a fragmentary view of history, designed for the amusement of very small children, we should have allowed it to pass, on that estimate; but when the title-page denominates it "a narrative of the general course of history, from the earliest periods to the establishment of the American Constitution," we feel bound to warn the public against the pretension, as quite unfounded, and likely to mislead.

-It is too late for any man to plead in literature the "request of friends." If he prints a book he becomes an author, and must submit to the pains and penalties, as well as to the glories, of authorship. His book may have an intrinsic value in its information, which will secure it attention and influence; but a deprecatory preface does nothing but aggravate the reader. Why should "C. S. STEWART, A. M., U.S. N., and author of 'A Residence at the Sandwich Islands," Visit to the South Seas,' 'Sketches in Great Britain and Ireland,' etc., etc.." who begins his preface by saying, that "Two inducements have led to the publication of the following volume; one, the favor with which similar works from my pen have been received; the other, the belief that a book of fact, for light reading, would be welcome to many, amid the floods of fiction of the present day," then go on to say that "it was with no purpose of making a book," etc.? If the journal were written with no such purpose, then it was very absurd to publish it until it was put into proper form; and when it was so arranged, nobody is desirous to know that when the author was in Brazil he had no intention of writing a book, and calling it Brazil and La Plata: The Personal Record of a Cruise. (G. P. Putnam & Co.) But, whether he meant to write a book or not.

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the result is, that Mr. Stewart has given the world a very amiable and simple account of what he saw in Brazil. It is an entirely unpretending and valuable diary of some months' residence in a country of which, although there are many accounts, there is really very little knowledge. It has glimpses into life upon a man-of-war, also, for Mr. Stewart is a naval chaplain, and sailed in the Congress frigate. We wish that he had been a little more profuse in his details about the condition of the blacks in Brazil. We learn from him, what is not generally remembered in North America, that "color does not define the social position here. There is little of the Anglo-Saxon prejudice in this respect, so universal in the United States. Condition, not color, regulates the grades in social life. A slave is a menial, not because he is black, but because he is a slave." This harmonizes strictly with the Virginian assertion, that slavery is not a matter of“ complexion”– doctrine which, in logical application, might become embarrassing. He says further, "Home-servants in Rio are said to have easy times, and to do very much as they please; but, to judge by the instances I have seen of field-laborers, I fear such have but a sad and wearisome life." Such is the universal observation. It is remarkable that, after describing, in great detail, the establishment of a cotton-factory near Rio, Mr. Stewart fails to tell us whether the hands were slaves. From the fact that the only fabrics are "a coarse cloth for coffeebagging, and the clothes of slaves," we infer, from the similar results in Georgia, that the labor is slave. The too frequent recurrence of commonplace and vulgar expressions, injures the effect of the book. Thus " It was beginning to rain quite smartly;" ;" "We have been delighted by two (sunsets) already gazed on ;" "gleamed in the sun, like so much velvet;" a horse "traveled beautifully;" "Mr. Z. is immensely tall;" "Quite a number of passengers ;" "Quite a pleasure;" "Quite the air of a metropolis;" "Any quantity of the stormy petrel." These are the merest colloquial commonplaces, and should be carefully weeded out of a book. Yet, upon the whole, Mr. Stewart has written an interesting and intelligent work.

-The impetuous and picturesque story of

the political growth of Texas might claim a more graphic and spirited record than that offered by Mr. YOAKUM, whose History of Texas, in two solid octavos, has been lately issued by J. S. Redfield. But every library will none the less welcome a satisfactory and complete delineation of the facts. While original sources are still available for reference as to accurate data, the lapse of twenty years since the tangible crisis in the life of the state has served to allow personal envies and motives for temporary misrepresentation to crumble away. It is time, therefore, we had something better than the comparatively hasty works that have met the demand when public interest has occasionally been turned to the southwest. To such prominence these volumes, though somewhat local in detail and tone, are fairly entitled.

Mr. Yoakum has gathered his materials with evident diligence, and has arranged them in a perspicuous narrative. His style cannot be called classic, but, if displaying no keen dissection of human motive, nor rising to any stately and philosophic progression, it is, at least, almost never turgid or ambitious, but simple and clear, going direct and business-like to the point, and rarely confusing the facts it handles. He falls, sometimes, into inelegancies, into vagueness in the turn of a phrase, and into the use, here and there, of a word doubtfully pertinent. Thus (in the formation of a constitution), "the elements of liberty usual in such cases." Houston, 46 was elected Governor of the State; married

which soon proving unfortunate, he resigned," etc. "This little farce is an epitome of the life of Santa Anna, and coördinate as the Mexican mind."

The balance of values in the recital of incidents, so difficult amid masses of clam orous matter, is, on the whole, well preserved, although we should have preferred a more full account of the course of connected political phenomena in Mexico, and a somewhat less calm and summary enumeration of the events of the critical day of San Jacinto, as well as decidedly less of "Ellis P. Bean."

The early history of the region, including the French attempts at colonization, and the Spanish Jesuit missions, whose ruined buildings still attest a ponderous success, is given with a quite new and excellent completeness. The knotty question of the