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the contest for their independence. But civilization is not necessary for the defence of a people, though it might contribute wonderfully towards it. The worst feature in the affairs of the Turks, is their ill-compacted government, and the want of homogeneousness among the people.

The Russian Shores of the Black Sea, in the Autumn of 1852; with a voyage down the Volga, and a tour through the country of the Cossacks. By Lawrence Oliphant. Redfield: New-York. 1854.— The author writes with the evident prejudices of an Englishman; but, making due allowances for his Bullism, the reader will find his volume full of the most interesting information, in respect to the habits, manners, customs and condition of the Russian people and the vast country which they inhabit; and which their several races sufficiently diversify. The volume is one of details. The writer is a close observer, if not a profound thinker; and his facts are valuable, even if his philosophies are wanting. At this juncture his work will be found highly useful and instructive. The present American edition is from the third English.

Melbourne, and the Vhineha Islands; with sketches of Lima, and a voyage round the world. By George W. Peck. New-York: Charles Scribner. 1854.—To those tired of home, who desire to escape to the antipodes, Mr. Peck will prove a pleasant companion. He is lively and communicative, has no reserves, and will tell you as freely what he thinks, as of what he sees. Under his escort, you will be able to appreciate the condition and prospects of the new and growing capital city of Melbourne; and learn something of a region where the gold grows as plentifully as in California. At Melbourne, too, Mr. Peck had the good fortune to meet with Mr. Micawber—or a person very much like him—whom he found editing a newspaper. He reports Mr. Micawber as quite unchanged in character, and precise^ the person described by Dickens. After showing up Melbourne, our traveller conducts you to the coast of Peru, and makes you familiar with sights of Coolies, and smells of Guano. You will return with him home, rounding Cape Horn, and will arrive in good health, and cheery condition, with an adequate knowledge of ship and sea in all weathers. Mr. Peck is a lively narrator and describer, and you will say, "if we go to Melbourne and the Chincha Islands again—which Heaven forbid—let Peck gather up his traps and go along with us."

An Art Student in Munich. By Anna Mart Howin. Boston: Ticknor, Reed <fc Fields. 1854.—The boofe of an enthusiast in art, a lady well educated and of excellent natural powers, whose descriptions of the chief works of art in Germany, if high wrought, and seemingly extravagant, are yet, in all other respects, in good taste; marked by delicacy, feeling, and a just appreciation of essentials. The volume presents a series of studies in art; while the descriptions of ordinary life, manners and customs of the people, sports, recreations, tastes, enliven and vary the sketches, so as to prevent all monotony. The reader may here obtain a knowledge of some of the best works of leading German artists—word pictures supplying the places of originals, and, if not compensating for their absence, at least affording some idea of what they are. To persons of taste and education, this volume of Miss Howitt, whom we take to lie a daughter of William and Mary, the wellknown authors, will bo found grateful and instructive reading.

Hosmer a Poem).—Two very prettily printed volumes of poetry, by W. C. Hosmer, from the press of RedGeld, illustrated with a finely engraved portrait of the author. Mr. Hosmer has been known to us as a poetical contributor to the magazines for many a year. His verse is smooth, spirited and fanciful. He loves to reanimate the old traditions of the North and West, and to weave bright fancies with the wild flowers of his native forests. These constitute his chief materials. In his longer poem, he is chiefly imitative of Scott, in his border romances; not servilely so, but sometimes a little too much so for his independence ; at other times, he goes forward singing fearlessly his own notes, and they are such as lead us to wish that he had suffered his muse to take her own road more freely in all respects. We might find good cause for sharp criticism, here and there, in these pages, but we prefer to let the reader criticize for himself. Wo give him, accordingly, a couple of fair samples, from among the shorter pieces of these volumes, which are commended to us equally by their spirit, and the Southern character of their subjects:


Three cheers for the Pine, the Royal Pine,

Throned high on the hill's green brow;
While ranks of trees, in the rushing breeze,

Below like vassals bow;
When the hue of wine, at day's decline

Bepaints the solemn west,
A golden crown on his brow falls down,

Though the vale in gloom is drest.

With a heated brow, beneath his bough

The red man oft hath lain,
Worn out with toil, while his antler'd spoil

On the velvet moss lay slain;
And beneath his shade the Seneca maid

Hath warbled her wood-land lay,
While braiding flowers, and counting the hours

That kept her chief away.

When winter reigus, and the river chains

With fetters chill and white,
In the cold thin air, with branches bare.

The tall oak pains the sight;
But, on the hill thy banner still

Flings out defiance high,
Though no tint of green in the glen is seen.

And the blast comes growling by.

Long life to the Pine, the voiceful Pine,

Who inourneth for the past,
When the morning breeze sweeps his emerald keys,

Or the fitful midnight blast;
My thoughts, when I hear, in moonlight clear,

His surge-like anthem rise,
Are of seers of eld who, on hill-tops, held

Communion with the skies.

Three cla-ers for the Pine, the Royal Pine!

Though lord of a region grim,
The tempest loud, and the eagle proud,

Are friends who talk with him.
May h« lift his head, by well-springs fed,

In sunshine and in shower.
And his plumage green by the bard be seen

While the gray old bills up-tower.



Where Pablo to the broad St. John

His dark and briny tribute pays, The wild deer leads her dappled fawn

Of graceful limb and timid gaze; Rich sunshine falls on wave and land,

The gull is screaming overhead. And on a beach of whitened sand

Lie wreathy shells with lips of red.

The jessamine hangs golden flowers

On ancient oaks in moss arrayed,
And proudly the palmetto towers,

While mock-birds warble in the shade:
Mounds, built by mortal hand, are near,

Green from the summit to the base,
Where, buried with the bow and spear,

Rest tribes forgetful of the chase.

Cassada, nigh the ocean shore,

Is now a ruin wild and lone,
And on her battlements no more

Is banner waved or trumpet blown;
Those doughty cavaliers are gone

Who hurled defiance there to France,
While the bright waters of St. John

Reflected flash of sword and lance.

But when the light of dying day

Falls on the crumbling wrecks of time,
And the wan features of decay

Wear softened beauty like the clime,
My fancy summons from the shroud

The knights of old Castile again,
And charging thousands shout aloud—

"St. Jago strikes to-day for Spain!"

When mystic voices, on the breeze

That fans the ruling deep, sweep by,
The spirits of the Yemassees,

Who ruled this land of yore, seem nigh;
For mournful marks, around where stood

Their palm-roofed lodges, yet are seen,
And in the shadows of the wood

Their monumental mounds are green.

Temjxst and Sunshine. (Appleton's.)—A domestic history of Kentucky, showing the sort of life in that region, from the pen of Mrs. Mary J. Holmes, a new candidate for the favour of novel readers. No great deal can be said for this story. It is a rough performance, showing some talent, but little art. The heroine of the book is a beauty in person, but with a beast's soul. She is the fiend of the story; and, with neither genius, nor dexterity, nor plausibility, imposes upon every body —all other parties, very accommodatingly, showing themselves simpletons, only, it would seem, to facilitate her scheming—her schemes being of the shallowest character, though, of course, she lies without scruple, and is a forger; but, being in high life, her offences must not be allowed to hurt her reputation as a heroine. The picture is a deformity—an exaggeration—since no one can manufacture a fiend out of a fool, and the Miss Julia of this book is very much of a fool. The wonder is how such a creation could occupy the mind of a female writer. Verily, we should hold the sex at but small count, if we relied on the portraits of women, as drawn by women. Why is this? What is the secret of that passion for dark portraitures of one another, which is so decided a feature in works of fiction by female hands? Does it begin with the little soandal-mongering of society I Is it generated by that most pernicious of all evil influences to the sex, which tells them, while yet in pantalets, that marriage is the paramount consideration.

The Address of (he Hon. Willoughby Newton, of Virginia, before the Rappahannock River Agricultural and Mechanical Society, of that State, is one of those performances which illustrate the growing stir and exercise of the public mind in the South. It also shows that this mind is possessed of adequate resources, if properly exercsed, for the encounter with all the emergencies which belong to our condition. The discourse is well written, and well calculated to awaken the young ambition of Virginians. Not the least attractive portions of it, to us, are the brief sketches of local biography which it affords. We regret that the author had not extended his reseaches and developments, and shown us more of those noble gentlemen of his precincts, whom he so properly reports for I onourable and grateful remembrance.

Russia As It Js. By Count A. De Guuowski. Now York: Appleton <fc Co. 1854.—This book possesses considerable interest in the present complicated condition of European and Asiatic affairs. Without being much impressed with the author's politico-philosophical matters,—his facts—assuming them to be such—are full of interest and value. He seems to be thoroughly and minutely acquainted with Russian history, past and present—witli the resources of that mammoth kingdom—with the characteristics equally of government and governed —with the condition of society every where, and with the personal abilities and qualities of the Czar himself, and all the leading personages of the empire. Sketches of persons and of events, contribute greatly to the illustration of his general descriptions, and impart life to his narrative. Altogether, we do not know of any book, devoted to the current history of Russia, which will so thoroughly inform the reader, and enable him to come to conclusions of value in respect to the condition of Russian affairs. We say this, always supposing the writer's facts to be

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