of Young England, replies, "Ah, sir, I always thought you had an attachment for oleaginous incrustations!" Why "this is the best fooling after all."

One would feel inclined to ask, too, what is meant by "guests turning journals," but it is of little use to quarrel with any one absurdity, where all is alike sheer folly, nonsense, and affectation. The jest, such as it is, consists in the words being much too magnificent for the ideas, upon the same principle that a buffoon will often contrive, by assuming a huge wig and grotesque dress, to elicit the laughter which he is too dull to raise by his acting. The truth is, that Mr. Albert Smith is a mere writer of burlesque, the very lowest department in the domains of wit and humour; and even of this humble class of composition he does not comprehend the first principles. Poor as the art may be, he is a bungler in it, appearing to think that mere exaggeration is all that is requisite to make a caricature humorous. Yet if he had looked at the sister art of painting, he must surely have caught a glimmering of the truth; he could hardly have failed to see that there was no great difficulty in lengthening a limb, or widening a mouth, but that these distortions of nature were not alone sufficient to produce a good caricature; and what is caricature but a burlesque of the pencil?

much the same course, for at least as long as any book may be likely to be read; whereas, the forms of college-life are so incessantly fluctuating, that what is true to-day may be altogether false to-morrow. Cambridge, we know, is considerably altered from what it was in our days, and altered for the better; double the labour being required for a high degree, and double the vigilance being exercised over the morals and general couduct of the students. Independently of such considerations, it is impossible to teach experiences the idea implies a contradiction in fact as well as in terms, and is another proof of the mischief that may arise from the long abuse of words. Let us not, however, be misunderstood; we are far from undervaluing the author's chivalrous zeal in behalf of our noble universities; none but the bigots of liberalism (and they are the worst of bigots), would affect to treat with indifference those venerable institutions, the cradles of all that is best and most enlightened in our country. What man, who has been educated at Cambridge or Oxford, and whose opinion is worth listening to for a moment, ever talks of his college-days but with feelings of respect, and a love akin to that which he cherishes for a parent? In our mind, the fellow who speaks ill of the university that bred him, is little better than a parricide.

But though our Author has done, as we conceive, very little good in the way of piloting the young or old, he has not the less succeeded in producing a most delightful volume, so far as mere amusement is concerned. It is written in a pleasant, gossiping style, full of anecdotes, sometimes laughable, and sometimes grave, but always entertaining; and such as may be read with great advantage by any lounger at his breakfast-table, at the rate of six sentences to a sip of coffee, or a bite of toast or muffin.

We have yet another fault to find with Mr. Smith, and that is the great want-we had almost said the total absence of originality in his writings. Had the worst enemy of Boz come into the field for the purpose of exposing the adulterate modes by which that celebrated novelist has obtained popularity, he could not have done it more effectually; his mannerism, his false sentiment, his opposed characters of all shade, or all light-the whole jugglery, in short, of his system, which he so well knows how to hide, is here completely exposed and laid bare his clumsy imitator lets drop the curtain that concealed the wires of the puppets, and we have at once revealed the springs and wheels by which they had been set in motion. The same thing is common enough in acting, where an awk-title-page of this work, we should indubitably have attributed it Ir we had not found a gentleman's name affixed to the ward imitator is sure to be the severest satire upon his proto- to some young lady, not yet emancipated from the boardingtype; but we never remember to have seen it before so com- school. It is the story of an old scarecrow lady of rank, a pletely made manifest amongst authors. all kinds for the sake of her rank and supposed fortune-by methodist and a malade imaginaire, who is beset by wooers of methodist parsons, quack doctors, and vulgar hunters after

LADY CECILIA FARRENCOURT. By Henry Milton. 3 vols. 12mo. 17. 11s. 6d.

These remarks, brief as they necessarily have been, will yet, we trust, be sufficient to show the general nature of Mr. Smith's writings, and, as the Scattergood Family has long been before the public in the shape of leading papers in Bentley's Miscel-quality. A retired grocer, who would be a member of parlialany, there is the less reason for our entering into any minute details. Independently of this, we feel that we have already devoted much more both of space and time to this author, than he is fairly entitled to. We shall therefore only say of the two remaining tales, which are flung in to make up the third volume, that they are mere versions of two indifferent French

melodramas, well known to the visitors of our different minor theatres.

before he is actually in possession, and runs away from matriment, is the successful candidate; but he gets tired of the prize mony, in the person of Lady Cecilia; like the flying-fish, however, who escapes from his enemies in the water only to encounter those in the air, poor Allnutt flies from his titled enemy only to fall into the jaws of her maid, who finally

wheedles him into marriage.

PAROCHIALIA. By John Sandford, M. A. 8vo. 16s.

We cannot bring ourselves to speak slightingly, much less harshly, of a writer whose intentions are so praiseworthy; but neither may we, in justice to our readers, blink the fact that his work is neither very useful nor very interesting. It is precisely such as might be expected from a pious, kind-hearted man, who had lived in his own parish till he thought its affairs must needs be as all-important to others as they were to himself, mingled with an inoffensive show of vanity, natural enough to one who has for years been the centre of an admiring circle,

Thus far we have spoken, harshly it may be, but not the less justly, of Mr. Smith; but it has been from no feeling of illwill; on the contrary, we believe him to be a young man of some talent, though he is not quite so clever a fellow as he evidently supposes himself, and at all events we are disposed to give him thus much credit-he is quite capable of amending the greater part of the faults objected to him, could he only be brought to understand that they are faults, and not perfections. Indeed, it may be doubted, whether they do not belong less to himself than to his previous associations, and to the want of that mental discipline, which youth rarely finds out of our pub-however limited. lic schools and colleges. If, therefore, we have seemed to censure rather sharply, it has really been in the hope of piercing through the triple mail of vanity with which he has encased himself, and thus instilling into his mind some wholesome truths, the knowledge which is absolutely indispensable to his future progress.

THE COLLEGIAN'S GUIDE. 12mo. 10s. 6d. It is, we believe, pretty generally acknowledged by travellers of any taste or understanding, that there is very little use in guide-books of any kind. Of all bores, the greatest bore on record is a cicerone, as most men seem willing to allow, who have ever been under the direction of one; yet here we have some person, or persons, unknown, who, as it seems, should know better, undertaking to guide old gentlemen and their young hopefuls through the intricate mazes of college-life, an attempt which holds out much less chance of a profitable result than that of the tourist-guide. Hills will retain their shape and places, woods will flourish, and rivers will hold on in

The work may be considered as a series of essays on the repairs made in the church of Dunchurch, on the schools of that parish, on teachers, on pastoral care, on public worship, on religious societies, on the allotment system, on district visitors, on medical unions, on church officers, on provident societies, and upon a variety of similar subjects, that it is scarcely necessary for us to catalogue.

4s.

THE ATMOSPHERIC CHANGES WHICH PRODUCE RAIN,
WIND, STORM. By T. Hopkins. 8vo.
THE science of meteorology is, we believe, the latest in the
calendar of human knowledge, and beyond all question it is
the most imperfect. Mr. Hopkins has here given us the lead-
ing theories of the day on the subject, discussing their merits,
and adding to them the results of his own experience both at
home and abroad. The result is a highly interesting volume,
though we are not prepared to yield an unqualified assent to
all his doctrines.

NAPOLEON. An Epic Poem, in Twelve Cantos. By THE THEOGONY OF THE HINDOOS. By Count M. BjörnWilliam Richard Harris. 4to. 21. 2s.

TWELVE cantos of blank verse upon poor Napoleon! had the ex-emperor been still living, he surely would have thought this a severer infliction than all the indignities heaped upon him by Sir Hudson Lowe.

The author commences his attack on the public with a singularly modest preface, in which he tell us that, to the best of his knowledge, no English poet since Milton has attempted to write an epic. Verily we believe him, as to the extent of his knowledge; and should have done so had he farther affirmed his total ignorance of such men as Southey or Wordsworth, or of its ever having been laid to their charge that they had perpetrated the poetical offences of Madoc and the Excursion, which last production of an unknown writer, Lord Byron has declared to be his "aversion." We almost think too, that we have somewhere read, or heard of, certain other ponderous quartos, indited by the Laureate, which he, good easy soul! fully imagined to be epics, when he gave them to the public. We now come to the poem itself. It openeth on the morning of the battle of the Moskwa, whereat both Nelson and Wellington seem to be present. Suddenly the Poet trieth back and showeth how, and when, and where, his hero was born and educated. He concludeth his first FYTTE with the "Day of the Sections."

Canto ii. proveth that "Ney is not the bravest of the brave," and giveth us "a glimpse at (qy. of?) Waterloo." Divers choice and original similitudes. The author maketh another jump backwards; and, leaving Waterloo, entereth Bologna in triumph.

Canto iii. showeth Wurmser, or some Austrian Pandour, -we really cannot understand which,-mounted on a horse with "neck in thunder clothed."-N.B. One Gray hit upon the same idea, but not for a German cavalier.-The Poet describeth the fall of a shell; and, to enliven the tedium of blank verse, flingeth in a score of rhymes-all very pretty, and nearly as good as new.

Canto iv. The Poet again lapseth into Miltonics, the rhymes, it may be presumed, sticking with him as with honest Iago. He laudeth Marmont and revileth his hero, whom he compareth to "the fiery bolt of Jove."-He also biddeth Masséna "not to weep," but to take a snack ("refreshment due partake") and fight again to-morrow.

Canto v.-The poet carrieth the bridge of Arcola, and getteth "a glimpse at (qy of?) Blenheim," when the fit of rhyming again seizeth him. He hopeth that all Britain's enemies may, like the devils, enter a herd of swine and be -choked in the waters.

Canto vi. The poet maketh a speech for his hero, not after the manner of Milton. He telleth

But as Sterne pathetically asks, in his story of Le Fevre, "shall we go on ?"--“ No!”

THOM'S IRISH ALMANAC FOR 1845. 8vo. 8s. 6d. To those who have any connexion with Ireland, or who are the least interested in Irish affairs, this little, thickset octavo will be highly valuable. The principal heads, into which it may be divided, are,-Useful Tables on a variety of subjects; The Calendar; The Ministry and Royal Family; Courts of Law; The Irish Peerage; Imperial Parliament; Abstract of Statutes made in 1844; Government Departments; Statistics of Ireland; Colleges and Schools of Medicine, &c.; Ecclesiastical Directory; Law Directory; Postage and Conveyance Directory; County and Borough Directory; Trades' Directory; Alphabetical List of the Nobility, Gentry, &c.; Tide Tables; Feasts; Law and College Terms; with such a multitude of miscellaneous information, that we are as much puzzled to guess how it all got packed into this fat little epitome, as ever child was to comprehend the secret of the coach-and-horses inclosed in a glass phial.

SAUL. A Dramatic Sketch. Poems and Translations. 8vo. 6s.

THIS is an attempt of a very feeble spirit to grapple with the tremendous subject of Saul; the whole play, or sketch, seeming to be written chiefly for the sake of the scene with the Witch of Endor. Some of the translations, appended to it, are prettily, though not powerfully, done, and evince neither the merits nor the faults of a genuine poet.

stjerna. 8vo. 88. 6d.
THIS Volume, which is an octavo of very moderate dimen-
sions, professes to give an account of the religion of the Hindoos,
and of their Epic Poetry, so far as it is connected with religion.
In regard to facts, the author gives us nothing new, or what was
not sufficiently well known to every student of Indian customs
and antiquities, his work being for the most part made up from
English sources. Still, as a mere digest, it may be of use to
those who are unwilling to be at the trouble of inquiring for
themselves, or who have no leisure for such pursuits. They
will find here, in a small compass, much that is highly curious,
if not useful, in regard to the origin of the Brahminical faith,
the various sects into which it has split in the progress of time,
its influence upon the social and political condition of the
Hindoos, and its relation to the different forms of religion that
have successively obtained amongst the people of the other
portions of the globe. So far, therefore, and to such a class of
readers, the Count's manual may be serviceable; but we are
aware of no one who is likely to profit by his exercise of the
reasoning faculties; he invariably argues falsely from his data,
or does not know how to turn them to any useful purpose, while
occasionally he indulges in flights of fancy, not very accordant
with the rigorous deductions of logic, and which remind us of
nothing so much as of Peter Wilkins and his flying ladies.
Thus, for instance, he tells us that the Polar regions had at one
time an "even and temperate climate," when they were the
first home of mankind, who thence migrated to the plains of
India. In this whimsical theory, which goes far to place
Paradise somewhere in the Frozen Ocean, he seems to have
quite forgotten, that if the Polar part of the globe were as
temperate as he imagines, the Indian climate must also have
been reversed; the sun cannot shine equally everywhere; what
is gained in heat on one part, must, it is clear, be lost upon
another, unless, indeed, the solar orb had undergone the process
which Juliet prescribes for Romeo, and been cut into little
pieces to make stars of him; but as this last is no very probable
supposition, even for the Count, it will follow that our original
parents, contrary to all reasoning and all experience in such
matters, abandoned a temperate region for a cold one. It does
not, however, require much sagacity to discover how the Count
arrives at this or any other similar conclusion; we have only to
reverse any accepted fact, substitute north for south, and south
for north, deny all that is probable, and affirm everything that
is improbable, and we have at once got the very heart of his
secret for making theories.

THE LIFE AND JOURNEYS OF PAUL THE APOSTLE.
By Peter Parley. 12mo. 3s.

PETER PARLEY has certainly got the right knack of addressing himself to the hearts and understanding of his juvenile readers. This simple and amusing life of the Apostle will do more to make them love religion than a score of those tracts which pretend to go deeper into the matter.

CAMBRIDGE EUCLID. 18mo. 6s.

THE editor of this compact little volume has followed Simson's version as it is in use at Cambridge; the chief difference being that he has divided the steps, or successive parts of the demonstrations, so as to render them more intelligible to the student.

THE MOTHER'S FIRST BOOK. 12mo. ls. 6d. young children, made up of stories, spelling-lessons, examples We have here both a spelling and a reading book for very of words that have similar sounds, and a few simple grammatical rules. It will most probably answer the purpose for

which it is intended.

THE OVERLAND GUIDE-BOOK. By Captain James
Barber. 8vo. 7s. 6d.

Its

A VERY useful digest, though it contains nothing new. information is limited, however, to the places where the steamer touches, except in Egypt, where the author gives an itinerary of the Valley of the Nile.

ANGEL VISITS. By Miss Anne Savage. 12mo. 6s. Of these "Angel Visits," we can only express our wish that they may be "few and far between." The verses (for the volume is only a collection of verses) are about the usual level of magazine poetry.

VALENTINE M'CLUTCHY, THE IRISH AGENT. By William
Carleton. 3 vols. 12mo. 17. 11s. 6d.

If this had been merely a romance, and with no other objeet than the one usual to such works-that is to say, of amusing an idle hour-it would not have detained us long; but Mr. Carleton has by his own confession a secondary purpose; he wishes, under the pleasing guise of romance, to give us, what no doubt he conceives to be a faithful picture of the manifold oppressions under which the Irish peasant labours from his landlord. With the great political questions, that are now agitating Ireland, we have nothing to do at present, being determined, as far as may be, to consider literature apart from politics; but, for the honour of human nature, we hope this picture is not true; we believe it is not, and we are strengthened in this comfortable conviction by observing that the author is a vehement partisan, who paints characters that never did exist, and is therefore just as likely to be guilty of exaggeration in his incidents; indeed we may affirm that the scenes, which he describes, never could have taken place but by the agency of such a set of beings as are totally at variance with all the usually-received ideas of human nature. It may be doubted whether there ever was a character so wholly bad as to have no admixture of good, or so immaculate as not to have a taint of evil; but such a collection of moral monsters as Mr. Carleton has here brought together to work out his story is a sheer impossibility. One might as well imagine a herd of horned swine, or of double-headed oxen. But in truth they are not human beings at all; they are mere abstract passions, personifications of crime and villany, and resemble nothing but the dramatis persona of an old Morality.

not unedifying joke; yes, you will-I know-I see you will-very well, then, the little joke is pardoned-this brandy and water are

so beautifully blended, that I cannot help thinking there is something in that sweet hand of yours that dif-diffuses a delicious flavour upon it-I know that such things exist.'

Upon my word, Mr. M Slime, from such a religious gentleman as you are, I didn't expect—'

"Ah, my dear Eliza, that is coming to the root of the matter,

and I am glad to find that you are not insensible to it. On that subject, my sweet girl, and you are a sweet girl-it is that I propose to speak with you to commune with you-in a spirit, my

dear Eliza, of love and affection.'

"But, Mr. M'Slime, I surely didn't think that you who stand so high in the religious world, and that the people look upon as a saint, would talk as you do.'

"Ah, Eliza, my dear girl, it is very natural for you in your hitherto darkened state to say so; but sweet Eliza, if you had your privileges, you could understand me. For instance, in the indulgence of this precious little dialogue with you, I am only following up a duty that strengthens myself; for, Eliza, my precious creature, if more light were given you, you would be permitted to feel that an occasional lapse is for our good, by showing us our own weakness and how little we can do of ourselves.'

"That is to say, I must commit sin first, in order to know the grace of repentance afterwards?'

"You put it too strongly, Eliza; but here is the illustration :You know it is said there is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just men.' And I know order that their triumph in the end may be the greater. I have many, Eliza, who go through a long course of virtuous iniquity, in myself practised it in a small way, and found it refreshing. And now, Eliza, bring me another cup of brandy and water, even for my stomach's sake. If you were only a little more frail!" my sweet girl-we could feel this a kind of religious exercise. Oh! these precious little frailties-these precious little frailties!'

"Another cup of refreshment, Eliza-but I am not perfection— no-nor would I be perfection. What would life be without these precious little frailties-that make us what we are?' "With all piety and undher

"Who is that,' inquired the maid evidently startled, if not affrighted, by a strange voice.

"I join-join you brother M'Slime, for another cup of refresh ment.*

Let it not be supposed, however, that we are taking upon us "Mr. M'Slime, you will excuse me, but I think you have got to deny that there may exist great and serious evils in the enough, and a little too much liquor. If you should be seen going social state of Ireland. In all countries a landlord is unfor-home in an unsteady state your character would suffer.' tunately under no control but that of public opinion; and we have seen, even in England, an attempt to shake off this wholesome, but light restraint, by the enforcement of the monstrous doctrine, that "a man may do what he pleases with his own," as if he were responsible to neither God nor man for his actions. Now, this in our mixed government of three estates, king, lords, and commons, is an anomaly, which, if carried out in its full extent, would speedily end in making the landlord as despotic as the Grand Turk, or the Schah of Persia. But it should seem this plague-blot does really exist far and wide in Ireland, the voice of public opinion, which with us is so influential that it may be almost called unwritten law, having no force whatever in that unhappy country. Up to a certain point, therefore, we credit, or, at least, we are not prepared to deny, Mr. Carleton's statements; but we maintain, that, as a whole, his picture is overcharged, and totally repugnant to any reasonable belief.

The story of these volumes is not very new, but it acquires a deep and harrowing interest from the way in which it is told. The outlines, in brief, are these:-The agent of an absentee landlord, with the help of a canting attorney and some other no less worthy associates, pillages the tenants, and drives them well nigh to madness by his cruelty and exactions. Murder, of course, is often in agitation amongst these poor people; but an excellent Catholic priest always steps in, just in the nick of time, and by his exhortations persuades them to abandon their projects. Opposed to this worthy pastor is a Protestant clergyman, a lover of loaves and fishes, and a stout Orangeman to boot, who sees no use in a flock but to shear them. The great fault to be found with this right reverend is, that he is not only as bad as the absence of all positive good can make him, but he is exceedingly insipid. Not so, however, the methodistical lawyer; though the features of his character are not a little overcharged, he is a most amusing rascal, cheating, drinking, and seducing, but invariably attempting to persuade others as well as himself that what he is doing is the most proper and pious thing in the world. We cannot resist quoting a short scene, in which this worthy figures in two of his characters :-

"Eliza,' said Solomon, 'Eliza, I have often had an intention of asking you to allow me the privilege and the pleasure, Eliza, of some serious conversation with you. It is a trying world, a wicked world, and to-to a girl-so charming a girl as you are, Eliza—' "Charming, Mr. M'Slime; well, well!'

"Charming, certainly, as regards your person, your external person-your person is indeed very charming, and verily, Eliza, this brandy and water is truly precious, so beautifully blended, that I cannot-now, Eliza, will you pardon me a small, but, I trust,

darling-my dove-another cup for Bob, and after that we shall
"Bob Spaight-brother Bob-I am glad you are here; Eliza, my
aid each other home-will render one another Christian and mutual
assistance."

"Yes,' replied Bob, clearing his voice :-
"Bob.King James he pitched his tents between
"Solomon. There's nought but care on every hand, I neously.

"Bob. But King William threw his bomb balls in,}

"Solomon. What signifies the life o' man,
"Bob. The lines for to retire,

"Solomon. In every hour that passes, 0,}

"Bob. And set them all on fire.'

"Solomon. An "twerna for the lasses, 01'}

Simulta.

"Many thanks, sweet Eliza-oh! that I could say my frail Eliza; but I shall be able to say so yet, I trust; I shall be able to say so."

I

"God forbid,' she replied. This is not for you, Mr. M'Slime

certainly will give you no more this night. But Bob here is a favourite of mine. Bob, you will see Mr. M'Slime home? light home,' returned Bob; in the mean time I will thank you for the loan of a lantern; the night is one of most unchristian darkness.'

"In all piety and truth, I shall see that burning and shining

"Solomon had now reclined his head upon the table as if for sleep, which he very probably would have indulged in, despite of all opposition: but just at this moment his horse, car, and servant, most opportunely arrived, and, with the aid of Bob, succeeded in

getting him away, much against his own inclination; for it would appear by his language that he had no intention whatsoever of

departing, if left to himself.

"I shall not go,' said he; it is permitted to me to sojourn here this night. Where is Eliza? Oh! Eliza, my darling-these precious little frailties.'"

As companions to this portrait, we have the agent, a cunning villain-his son, a sordid villain-about a score of virtuous and oppressed tenants, with very few shades of difference amongst them, and double the number of drivers, spies, and rogues, with no difference at all, or only with this distinction, that some take to repenting, and betray their associates; by-the-by, the number of these penitents, male and female, is very considerable. But the main agent in effecting the development of this true and eventful history, is a brother of the absentee landlord, who comes into the country disguised

PICTURES AND RHYMES FOR CHILDREN. 18mo. 6s. THESE are German nursery rhymes, with an English version. "Solomon, you sleek, hypocritical rascal,' said he. Your hypocrisy is known,-ha, ha, ha! Come, d-n me; I never The translator has not been very happy in catching the simplilived a hypocrite, and I won't die one. Lanty, you imp, the city of the original; but as a set-off, the volume is very prettily brandy.' got up.

LETTERS OF A GERMAN COUNTESS. By Ida, Countess
of Hahn-hahn. 3 vols. 12mo. 17. 11s. 6d.
It seems extremely probable that this same Ida, Countess of
Hahn-hahn, is some pretty simpleton, of lively parts, who has
flattered herself, or been flattered by others, into the notion that
she is extremely clever. Great is her passion for stars, and flowers,
and blue skies; greater still is her hatred for civilisation, which,
as she opines, "makes men slaves." Impressed with these
ideas, she sets forth on a pilgrimage to the wild Bedouins, as
the only free people, and the result of her observations both on
the road, and amongst them, she communicates in this series
of letters, addressed generally to "my dearest Mamma," but
sometimes also to a brother and sisters, for whom they certainly
are much better adapted than for that harsh-judging stepfather,
the public.
Our tourist commences with Silesia, where she visits the
baths, which she does not bathe in because of the sulphur, and
the mountains, of which she sees nothing because of the fogs.
The linen, it seems, is dirty, the pictures bad, the rocks grand,
the creation altogether a very wonderful affair; and the women
beautiful, only "their beauty is of a peculiar character." We
should rather think it was, seeing "that the face is broad,
and also the upper part of the nose, and the complexion of a
pale yellow."

Leaving these broad-nosed, yellow-faced damsels, the Countess now sets out in earnest for the East, being, according to her own account, tormented with a burning thirst for knowledge, though we rather think curiosity would be the more fitting word, a fancy to see how the Bedouins look with their black beards, and the Turks in their wide trousers-the same sort of feeling, in fact, that impels little boys and girls to the pit or boxes of a theatre on the first night of a new pantomime.

We are now in the heart of Hungary; and the sight of Hungarian liberality draws from her a remark, the truth and good feeling of which reconciles us to many of her absurditics, not even excepting her comparison of the river Danube to Jupiter, "knitting his brows and shaking his locks;" even this, we say, may be forgiven to her, when with equal sense and spirit she protests against the so-called liberality of the Hungarian nobles, who preach it for their own profit only-or that of the Poles, who while they struggled against Russian empire, yet held their own people in abject servitude. Most heartily do we concur in this opinion, and never could understand how even John Bull, gullible as he is to a proverb, could have lavished his gold and sympathy upon the Polish refugees, a set of barbarians as oppressive at home as they had always shown themselves cruel and ungenerous to their enemies in war. There is no people that an honest mind would regard with more unmingled detestation than these same Poles.

The Countess having now fairly landed herself in Turkey, begins to lament, as many sapient travellers have done before her, that the Turks in dress and manners are speedily assimilating themselves to the Europeans; the absence of the big trousers seems to be a particular subject of regret; on this momentous subject-we speak it with great deference-we think the lady wrong; with every possible respect for wide slops, it does nevertheless appear to us that any assimilation in external matters goes some way towards destroying more important prejudices; in other words, and that we may speak as philosophically as the occasion demands, we humbly opine the more distinctions that are done away with between man and man the better. To confess the truth, we have a little plan of our own for the establishment of a universal peace, and it is this; that all the world should wear breeches of the same make and colour; nay, so comprehensive is our scheme, that we are quite willing to extend the privilege to the ladies, married or unmarried, metaphorically or absolutely. If, however, in spite of this liberality on our part, any one should still be so narrow-minded as to laugh at it, we must defend ourselves by the example of the Countess, who maintains that it is tobacco, and nothing but tobacco, that has rendered the Turkish character stagnant. Surely not surely it was the trousers---unless indeed it should appear that the slippers were

aiders and abetters in the offence; but,

"Adhuc sub judice lis est."

It must, however, be admitted that there is something very pleasing in our authoress's account of Constantinople; not that it can be new to any reader of common knowledge, but

one

because it is manifestly new to herself: she is like
bred in the country, who finds himself for the first time
in a crowded capital; everything is, of course, a novelty to
him, and his simple expressions of delight often affects us more
than all the studied phrases of the matured traveller.

Ancient Byzantium-a visit to the Harem of Rifát PashaDiamonds in the hair of the ladies, while their fingers are dipt in soup-Aqueducts of Belgrade-Slave-market-Rhodes Knights of St. John-Beyrout-Lebanon-Arabian wedding-form a portion only of the multifarious topics that fill up the remainder of this volume. Of the moral and religious opinions professed by our authoress, we have purposely abstained from saying anything, nor do we now propose to break this discreet silence, except to observe that, of all the reasons hitherto given for believing in Christianity rather than Mahommedanism, hers seems the strangest-namely, and we cite her own words, that there may be no mistake "I find in the latter an element that harmonises more with me, namely, an inexpressible melancholy, a sadness that longs for distant, far distant consolation."- Vol. i. p. 159. Surely the Countess might have found other, and better, reasons for a Christian faith; in fact, what she calls a reason, is none at all, and might just as well be adduced for her belief in Brahma, or in the Gods of Pagan Greece and Rome.

The second volume shows us our traveller equipt in "blouse, pantaloons"-query the pantaloons? are they not of the translator's making?" a red and white striped chemise closed at the throat, and high-buttoned shoes of coutil," on her road to Judea, and at length in that country so dear to the reader of Biblical history. As a matter of course, she indulges in many outbreaks of German enthusiasm, such as might be expected from a professor of melancholy, who, according to her own account, "grieves and desponds at everything," and who sees and feels more than any one ever saw or felt before; "thoughts roaming over the world of waters," "earnest longings even into heaven itself," "a far distant horizon drinking in the up their lovely waves," "heart-reviving billows, that send music, melodious as scraphic strains," and all that sort of thing, as poor Mathews used to say, mingle with some natural thoughts and some pretty descriptions, so that the whole resembles an olla podrida, which would be a decent dish enough, if it were not for the confounded quantity of garlic. Towards the end of the volume, we find ourselves at length amongst the Bedouins, when the lady falls downright in love with these interesting vagabonds, who, it seems, are the only beings on earth that are free in reality; even the little drawbacks of filth, thievery, and nakedness go for nothing; and when she finds the children running about stark naked, she playfully observes "there is no freedom without a little wildness!" But then these dear little sansculottes give their mammas no trouble whatever, no, not even at their birth and so with a peep at Jerusalem ends volume the second.

The Desert, the Nile, the Pyramids, the Mosques, are the next topics, with a vast quantity of light amusing prattlereflections she calls them-on divers other subjects, more or less connected with the country. On her way to the Pyra

mids she again falls in with her "Bedouin friends," and, as usual, is mightily "struck with their beauty," though she admits their appetite for gold is insatiable; even a Napoleon did not satisfy them-but, indeed, Napoleon satisfied few people-and thus we go on, till the New Year finds us at Denderah, talking most learnedly of Amasis, Psammeticus, Cambyses, and the twenty thousand flourishing cities of Egypt. Then she falls foul of the astronomers, "because, in their esteem, the system of the universe is ordered for the stars;" now, we must honestly own our ignorance of this fact, never having heard it hinted at before; but we will, nevertheless, take the lady's word for it, and pitch all astronomers to the gentleman in sables. Stupid rascals! what better can they expect for such a theory?

Having thus followed our fair traveller hitherto, step by step, it will harldly be necessary to give the details of the remaining half volume; its character and contents may be judged of with tolerable accuracy from what has been said of the preceding chapters.

Of the translator, the less we say the better; we are quite sure that he cannot write English; and we have some doubts of his understanding German too well; but as we have not the original to refer to, he must be acquitted on the last count of the indictment, for want of sufficient evidence.