of taste, the accurate observer and the candid judge. Were the choice of topics a right of either reader or critic, we would express a wish, that our author had made a somewhat different selection of his, or a different estimate of the relative importance of those selected We would have had him devote a larger part of his work to England, a country to us in many respects of unequalled interest, which our tourist strangely undervalues; and if his prescribed limits did not allow this, we would have been willing for an exchange, and spared some four or five of the eleven chapters on the operas, theatres, markets, and eating houses of Paris, to make room for an equal additional number on the land of our fathers. Generous as he has been, his compliment to the Parisians will not satisfy them; they will consider it a great slight to be thought only of equal importance to the rest of Europe, and have no more than half of his pages. For our part, we think that he treats them with a full share of consideration, and puts a great deal more rose into the coloring of his picture of them than they deserve. He concedes to their city its claim of unequalled fascinations, and only slightly intimates that it is also one of unequalled abominations. As respects this latter point, the whole story is told in a few words, and all writers agree as to the tenor of those: they are in a deplorable state as to religion and morality; they are living without God in the world -he is not in all their thoughts. We state this fact not merely on the testimony of those whom it fills with anguish the impious Heine, who glories in it, laughs at the idea of calling the Parisians atheists; they do not think enough about God, he says, to deny his existence. Mr. Jewett gives us a truly appalling picture of the irreligion of the people in his chapter on a Parisian sabbath; and it must not be understood, that such an observance, or rather nonobservance of it, is inherent in the catholic faith-there are catholics in other countries, who yield to none in a spirit of true devotion on that day and on all other days; and then with what a suggestion does the chapter close-Paris unroofed! the thought is enough to make even a Parisian shudder- Michael Angelo's Last Judgment, and Dante's Inferno, are but feeble imaginings compared with the realities it would disclose. We cannot now enlarge upon this topic; it must be dismissed with the single remark, that we fall under a strange infatuation in systematically introducing our youth into "this largest sink of European vice," and teaching them when there to adopt the old maxim about being among the Romans, and the still more extraordinary one, that the traveller must see every thing, and follow to the end of every path, even those which "go down to the chambers of death." There is another notion, which comes by travelling abroad, that cannot be too loudly reprobated: that we must give up our narrow prejudices, our puritanic morals as they are are called, and adopt the more liberal standard of enlightened Europe. We rejoice to find Mr. Jewett expressing himself de

cidedly on the general principle, and we wish he had given a more unequivocally moral bearing to his remarks; with a large class of readers, his authority would have more weight than that of a graver moralist.

"There is much of query," he observes, " among travelling Americans, as to what of Europe might profitably be conveyed across the Atlantic. At first, broad questions may seem to arise. The more I look and reflect, the narrower grows the sphere of choice. As there is very little in American institutions that at this moment would be feasible or even desirable in Europe, so, there is still less of Europe that we could wish to see translated into the United States. I state my thought distinctly, disguising not its repulsiveness."

This sentiment has our unqualified assent; in that respect we would be glad to see the ocean completely "dissociabilis," and all the "impia rates" merged in the deep, which should attempt a passage hither, freighted with the moral corruption and the political vices of Europe, whether monarchical or radical-the audacious race have already brought evils enough upon us.

We observe but one important error in "Foreign Travel," and that is rather an inadvertence than error; it is stated, that the representatives of thirty-three and a half millions of people are elected by only eighty thousand of the qualified. It was so, under the old electoral law; that of 1831, which reduced the direct tax qualification to two hundred francs, increased the electors to two hundred and fifteen thousand; but the principle is still the same— a small portion of the people only, enjoy the elective franchise.

Mr. Jewett's book deserves commendation on every account; and his publishers also, are entitled to the same, for their share in its attractions: they have sent it forth in a very gentlemanly dress, showing that they well understand its intrinsic worth, and attired it accordingly.

29.Sketches of Paris, in Familiar Letters to his Friend. By an AMERICAN GENTLEMAN. Philadelphia: 1838. E. L. Carey & A. Hart. 12mo. pp. 321.

IT is difficult to account for the absence of a moral sense in the community, on the subject of bad books. We have police regulations, against exposing to sale pictures of a certain class, and societies without number for the suppression of intemperance; but the pernicious influence of these immoralities, bears no comparison to that of the circulation of corrupting books. As the press now works, it diffuses its poison with the rapidity of a pestiferous blast. We have no wish to see it restrained; if publishers and booksellers would listen to the dictates of conscience, the evil would be stayed.

John Milton, in his eloquent speech for the liberty of unlicensed printing, recognizes it to be a matter "of greatest concernment in the church and commonwealth, to have a vigilant eye how books demean themselves as well as men; and thereafter to confine, imprison, and do sharpest justice on them as malefactors." And this is precisely the course we do not pursue; if a book has any cleverness, it is sure to get currency and credit with us, although every page may be soiled with its indecencies, and every paragraph with corrupting principles. We extend an indulgence to unlawful traffic in this respect, that we deny to all others; we hang the starved apothecary, when poverty, not will, consents to the sale of a little poison, to be used for wicked purposes; and we allow the same principle to justify, even in the court of conscience, the unlimited sale of the poison which kills the soul. Verily it is a strange morality. It is a strange kind of morality too, that it is extensively practised by the reading public: many families who would exclude from their dwellings a roué, a man of profligate principles, however brilliant his reputation for wit and talent, will yet freely admit into their parlors a corrupt and corrupting book, if it be distinguished for ability.

The above remarks will be understood to apply to the book which stands at the head of them; and for it they were intended. It has crept into public favor by means of its talent, vivacity, and piquancy, without a rebuke from the public press, or rather with its express approbation; and yet it comes to us in the state of a fine plant, foul with devouring insects: it needs to be smoked and washed with soap suds, before it will be fit to be received into the parlor. It is gratuitously scoffing in its allusions to religion; and grossly offensive in its exhibitions of vice. Surely it ought to satisfy any amateur of the Paris Hetaerae, to witness the spectacle himself, without obtruding their portraits upon public view. To heighten the atrocity of the offence against good morals, many of the letters are addressed to ladies; did any one before ever think it meet to make up a bouquet for them with roses, eaten at the bud, and picked up from the kennel.

Chapters might be selected from this book, filled with valuable information and sound reflections; but the objection above stated stands out in such bold relief, that it deservedly condemns an otherwise highly meritorious work.-One livid spot is sufficient to mark the plague, and warn us that death lurks beneath the most attractive beauty.

30. The Poetry of Travelling in the United States. By CAROLINE GILMAN. With additional Sketches, by a few Friends; and a Week among Autographs. By the REV. S. GILMAN. New York: S. Coleman. 1838. 12mo. pp. 430.

WE could not read a book with such a title but for the attractive name of its author; the recollection of her two "Recollections" dwells upon us so pleasantly, we greet her with a cordial welcome, however questionable may be the shape in which she presents herself. An unfortunate child sometimes suffers from the accident of being born soon after the appearance of a Della Cruscan poem, or a Minerva-press novel, from which a ridiculous mother selects for her a romantic name, which, as she grows up, both endangers her own character, and disinclines every plain, honest person, to making her acquaintance. Just so it is with a book; it would scarcely be possible for a writer, after having chosen an affected title, to escape from its influence, and keep entirely free from fustian, and equally difficult to remove from his production the suspicion of nonsense. Literary history shows how great has been the influence of this apparently unimportant circumstance upon the character of the literature of several ages, and we have the clearest evidence of it in our own. We are sorry to see one of the truehearted, for such we hold Mrs. Gilman to be, favoring such silly affectations. Her new volume is filled with the varied incidents of nearly a whole year's rambles, and abounds in stage-coach adventures, fine sketches of scenery, society, manners, literature, and local peculiarities, brought together from a wide range, extending from the southern limits of Georgia to the banks of the St. Lawrence. We know not where we could point to a book embracing more, or describing better, the great objects of interest, the grand and striking features of nature, the distinctive traits of national character, and the important institutions of the country, than that of Mrs. Gilman; it deserves and would have received a notice of more respectful length, but for its late appearance in our trimestral epoch. The poetical is decidedly not the best part of this agreeable tour; any one that remembers "Jephthah's vow," will not be satisfied with effusions from the same pen, so much inferior.

31.-Buds of Spring-Poetical Remains of Augustus Foster Lyde; with Addenda. Boston: 1838. 12mo. pp. 150.

THE first half of this neat little volume is not properly the subject of critical remark; the Buds of Mr. Lyde were evidently never intended to open to the world, and it would be both unkind and un-.

just to his memory to make him suffer for an act of indiscreet friendship. The biographical notices prefixed, excite a strong interest in the subject of the memoir, who was unquestionably a young man of great promise, of amiable and excellent character, and of ardent and devoted piety; and we should have been satisfied with the proofs of his uncommon worth, quite as fully, if the editor of his poems had not called him the Henry Kirke White of America. We wish there might be a standard of estimate for our geniuses of all sorts, without reference to great names abroad; the custom of calling our poets, novelists, and historians, Kirke Whites, and Scotts, and Gibbons, and Burkes, is an acknowledgment of inferiority wholly uncalled for, and not very flattering to our national pride; besides, it is making great names quite too common.

The last half of this volume, called "addenda," is fairly open to criticism, although the worthy author earnestly deprecates it. In a preliminary note, the reason for its publication is given, which affords an additional proof of the same want of judgment in his own case, as he had shown in that of his friend:

"The size of this little volume," he says, " will readily suggest an apology for the succeeding appendix. The number of leaves occupied by the poetical remains of our departed brother, and by the brief relation of his life and character, being so small, would have been adapted rather to a pamphlet than a bound book, while it is desirable that these Remains should be brought forward in a form more suitable for their preservation. It was rendered advisable, therefore, to add a few pages, and propriety dictated that these should be of poetry."

The above confession has at least the merit of honesty, and the reason, that of novelty, and the deed is in one respect generous to his friend; for although his are the effusions of a mind not yet "learned to build the lofty rhyme," they are the height of poetic inspiration compared with the "addenda." Such an amiable selfsacrifice proves that he must have loved much; and for this, we have the best disposition to forgive him for the double mistake of bringing before the public the youthful productions of his friend, and his own miscalled poetry. We are sorry to see such a publication emanating from the feelings of a kind heart, and intended also for the promotion of a good object; we sincerely hope that the avails of it may afford a rich addition to the funds for the Christian mission in China; and if so, we doubt not that the error would not only be forgiven, but also rejoiced in, by the spirit of his departed friend.

32.-The Athenian Captive. A Tragedy, in Five Acts. By THOMAS NOON TALFOURD. New York: J. & H. G. Langley.

12mo. PP. 81.

FEW efforts of the human mind require higher gifts of nature, than to write a fine tragedy. The history of intellectual culture