Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. XXIII.—April, 1852.—Vol. IV.

"No wonder," said the doctor, rather pettishly; "you always go out without any thing in it!"

We have heard somewhere of another of the same stamp, who imagined himself to be a poet, and who said to "Nat. Lee," whose insane verse was much in vogue at the time:

"It is not easy to write like a madman, as you do."

"No," was the reply; "but it is very easy to write like a fool, as you do!"

There was some "method" in the "madness" that dictated that cutting rejoinder, at any rate.

"I was once a sea-faring man," said an old New York ship-master one day, to a friend in "The Swamp," "and my first voyage was to the East Indies. To keep me from mischief, the mate used to set me picking oakum, or ripping up an old sail for 'parceling,' as it was called. While engaged one day at this last employment, it occurred to me that a small piece of the sail would answer an admirable purpose in mending my duck over-trowsers, as they were beginning to be rather tender in certain places, owing, perhaps, to my sitting down so much. I soon appropriated a small piece, but was detected by the mate while 'stowing it away.'

"He took it from me, and while he was lecturing me, the captain, a noble fellow, with a human heart in his bosom, came on deck, when the whole matter was laid before him.

"'A – ,' said he, 'always ask for what you want; if it is denied to you, then steal it, if you think proper.'

"I remembered his advice; and in a short time afterward had another piece of canvas snugly 'stowed away.' I carried it forward, and gave it to my 'chummy,' an old 'salt,' who had the charge of my wardrobe (which consisted of six pairs of duck-trowsers, the same number of red-flannel shirts, a Scotch woolen cap, and a fine-tooth comb), and performed my mending.

"The next day I went on deck with a clean pair of trowsers on, neatly patched. As I was going forward the captain hailed me:

"'You took that piece of canvas, sir!'

"'Yes, captain,' I replied, 'I did. You yourself told me to ask, and if I was refused, to do the other thing. I was refused, and did do the 'other thing.'

"'Well,' rejoined the captain, 'I have no great objection to your having the canvas, but let me tell you that you will never make a sailor if you carry your flying-jib over the stern!'

"My 'chummy,' sewing from the inside, had 'seated' my trowsers with a piece of canvas marked 'F. Jib!"'

There used to be quite popular, many years ago, a species of letter-writing in poetry, in accomplishing which much ingenuity was tasked and much labor expended. The ensuing lines are a good example of this kind of composition by comic writers who have not sufficiently advanced in joking to get "out of their letters." The lines were addressed to Miss Emma Vee, who had a pet jay, of which she was very fond:

"Your jay is fond, which well I know,He does S A to prove;And he can talk, I grant, but O!He can not talk of love."Believe me, M A, when I say,I dote to that X S,I N V even that pet J,Which U sometimes caress."Though many other girls I know,And they are fair, I C,Yet U X L them all, and soI love but M A V."M A, my love can ne'er D K,Except when I shall die;And if your heart must say me nay,Just write and tell me Y!"

The following "Welsh Card of Invitation" is a very amusing example of the avoidance of pronouns:

"Mr. Walter Morton, and Mrs. Walter Morton, and Miss Sandys's compliments to Mr. Charles Morgan, Mrs. Charles Morgan, Miss Charles Morgan, and the Governess (whose name Mr. Walter Morton, Mrs. Walter Morton, and Miss Sandys do not recollect), and Mr. Walter Morton, Mrs. Walter Morton, and Miss Sandys request the favor of the company of Mr. Charles Morgan, Mrs. Charles Morgan, Miss Charles Morgan, and the Governess (whose name Mr. Walter Morton, Mrs. Walter Morton, and Miss Sandys do not recollect), to dinner on Monday next.

"Mr. Walter Morton, Mrs. Walter Morton, and Miss Sandys, beg to inform Mr. Charles Morgan, Mrs. Charles Morgan, Miss Charles Morgan, and the Governess (whose name Mr. Walter Morton, Mrs. Walter Morton, and Miss Sandys do not recollect), that Mr. Walter Morton, Mrs. Walter Morton, and Miss Sandys can accommodate Mr. Charles Morgan, Mrs. Charles Morgan, Miss Charles Morgan, and the Governess (whose name Mr. Walter Morton, Mrs. Walter Morton, and Miss Sandys do not recollect), with beds, if remaining through the night is agreeable to Mr. Charles Morgan, Mrs. Charles Morgan, Miss Charles Morgan, and the Governess (whose name Mr. Walter Morton, Mrs. Walter Morton, and Miss Sandys do not recollect!)"

This is an exact copy of an authentic note of invitation to a dinner-party. In point of roundaboutativeness, it is on a par with the long legal papers which used to be served upon pecuniary delinquents.

If you would enjoy a bit of most natural and felicitous description, read the following by that classical and witty writer – no longer, with sorrow be it spoken, of this world – the author of "The American in Paris." The passage has been in the "Drawer" for many years:

"There is a variety of little trades and industries which derive their chief means of life from the wants and luxuries of the street; I mean trades that are unknown in any other country than Paris. You will see an individual moving about at all hours of the night, silent and active, and seizing the smallest bit of paper in the dark, where you can see nothing; and with a hook in the end of a stick, picking it up, and pitching it with amazing dexterity into a basket tied to his left shoulder; with a cat-like walk, being every where and nowhere at the same time, stirring up the rubbish of every nook and gutter of the street, under your very nose. This is the 'Chiffonier.' He is a very important individual. He is in matter what Pythagoras was in mind; and his transformations are scarcely less curious than those of the Samian sage. The beau, by his pains, peruses once again his worn-out dicky or cravat, of a morning, in the 'Magazin des Modes;' while the politician has his linen breeches reproduced in the 'Journal des Debats;' and many a fine lady pours out her soul upon a billet-doux that was once a dish-cloth. The 'chiffonier' stands at the head of the little trades, and is looked up to with envy by the others. He has two coats, and on holidays wears a chain and quizzing-glass. He rises, too, like the Paris gentry, when the chickens roost, and when the lark cheers the morning, goes to bed.

"All the city is divided into districts, and let out to these 'chiffoniers' by the hour; to one from ten to eleven, and from eleven to twelve to another, and so on through the night; so that several get a living and consideration from the same district. This individual does justice to the literary compositions of the day. He crams into his bag indiscriminately the last vaudeville, the last sermon of the Archbishop, and the last essay of the Academy.

"Just below the 'chiffonier' is the 'Gratteur.' This artist scratches the livelong day between the stones of the pavement for old nails from horses' shoes, and other bits of iron; always in hope of a bit of silver, and even perhaps a bit of gold; more happy in his hope than a hundred others in the possession. He has a store, or 'magazin,' in the Faubourgs, where he deposits his ferruginous treasure. His wife keeps this store, and is a 'Marchande de Fer.' He maintains a family, like another man; one or two of his sons he brings up to scratch for a living, and the other he sends to college; and he has a lot 'in perpetuity' in Père la Chaise. His rank, however, is inferior to that of the 'chiffonier,' who will not give him his daughter in marriage, and he don't ask him to his soirées."

A sad and "harrowing" event (after the manner of "the horrid" poetical school), is recorded in the subjoined wild "Fragment:"

"His eye was stern and wild; his cheekWas pale and cold as clay;Upon his tightened lip a smileOf fearful meaning lay:"He mused awhile, but not in doubt;o trace of doubt was there;It was the steady, solemn pauseOf resolute despair!"Once more he looked upon the scroll,Once more its words he read;Then calmly, with unflinching hand,Its folds before him spread."I saw him bare his throat, and seizeThe blue, cold-gleaming steel,And grimly try the temper'd edgeHe was so soon to feel!"A sickness crept upon my heart,And dizzy swam my head:I could not stir, I could not cry,I felt benumbed and dead!"Black icy horrors struck me dumb,And froze my senses o'er:I closed my eyes in utter fear,And strove to think no more!·······"Again I looked: a fearful changeAcross his face had passed;He seemed to rave: – on cheek and lipA flaky foam was cast."He raised on high the glittering blade;Then first I found a tongue:'Hold! madman! stay the frantic deed!I cried, and forth I sprung:"He heard me, but he heeded not:One glance around he gave:And ere I could arrest his hand,He had – BEGUN TO SHAVE!"

We can recall some half-dozen specimens of this style of writing; one, at least, of which, from an erratic American poet, must be familiar to the general reader.

Literary Notices

Memoirs of Margaret Fuller Ossoli. (Published by Phillips, Sampson, and Co.) The subject of these volumes has left a reputation for strength and brilliancy of intellect which, we imagine, will hardly be justified hereafter by the perusal of her writings. No one, however, can read this touching tribute to her memory without perceiving that she was a remarkable woman. It at once explains the secret of her success, and of her want of general recognition. From her early childhood, she displayed a wonderful precocity of genius. This was stimulated by constant mental inebriation, produced by the excitements of an ambitious and ill-judged education. Her girlish studies were devoted to subjects which demanded the mature experience of a masculine intellect. Deprived of the frolic delights of childhood, a woman in cultivation while young in years, goaded to the wildest intensity of effort by the urgency of an exacting parent, and attaining an extraordinary mental development at the expense of her physical nature, she must, of course, soon have become the object of marked attention and wonder – a prodigy to her friends, and a mystery to herself. Thus she was early placed in a false position. She grew up self-involved, her diseased mind preying on itself, and the consciousness of her personal importance assumed a gigantic magnitude, which threatened to overshadow all healthy manifestations of character. In this condition, she was accustomed to claim more than she could give – more than others were content to grant. The loftiness of her self-esteem was the measure of her lavish disdain. Hence, with the exception of those with whom chance had made her intimate, she was more formidable than attractive to the circle of her acquaintance; her presence in society called forth aversion or terror; as she dispensed the scathing splendors of her Jove-like lightnings, rather than the sweet refreshments of womanhood. But beneath this social despotism, were concealed a genuine kindliness of nature, a large sympathizing heart, a singular power of entering into the condition of others, and a weird magnetic charm which drew to her closest intimacy the most opposite characters. She was, moreover, generous and noble to an uncommon degree, in all the more sacred relations of life; with a high sense of duty; never shrinking from sacrifices; a wise and faithful counselor where her confidence was invoked; absolutely free from every trait of petty or sordid passion; the very soul of honor; and with a sense of justice that seemed to ally her with Eternal Truth. – In these volumes, she is left in a great measure to speak for herself. Her letters and private journals present a transparent record of her character. The editorial portion, by R. W. Emerson, James F. Clarke, and W. H. Channing, is executed with beautiful candor. The most truthful simplicity graces and fortifies their statements. With no other aim than to exhibit an honest portraiture of their friend, they have in no case, that we can discover, allowed their private feelings to gain the mastery over their sterner judgments. – Her residence in Italy reveals her heroism, devotion, and womanly tenderness, in a light that would almost induce the belief, on the part of those who had met her only in the antagonisms of society, that she had changed her identity. A profound, mysterious pathos hovers around her Italian experience, preparing the reader for the tragic close of a life, which was itself a tragedy. The description of her last hours presents a scene of desolation, before which grief can only bow in mute tears.

Charity and its Fruits, by Jonathan Edwards, edited by Tryon Edwards. A new work from the pen of the illustrious Northampton pastor can not fail to be welcome to the admirers of his profound and original genius. Combining a rare acuteness of metaphysical speculation, with a glowing fervor of religious sentiment, Edwards has called forth the most expressive eulogiums from the philosophers of the old world, while his name is still "familiar as a household word" in the primitive homes of New England. His character presented a striking union of intellectual vigor with earnest piety. The childlike simplicity of his tastes was blended with the refined subtlety of a mediæval schoolman. The apostle of disinterested love, his soul was inspired and thrilled with contemplating the glories of redemption, and the triumphs of grace over the ruins of humanity The Lectures contained in this volume are devoted to his favorite theme. They illustrate the principle of love as the foundation of the Christian character, and the expression of reconciliation with the Lord. In the high standard of duty which they present, in their deep and comprehensive views of human nature, and in the force and sweetness of their style, they compare favorably with the standard productions of their author, and are certainly not surpassed by any religious treatise of modern times.

The manuscripts from which these lectures have been prepared were nearly ready for the press, as left by the writer. They were afterward placed in the charge of Dr. Hopkins and Dr. Bellamy, and are now for the first time given to the public by the present editor. He justly deserves the gratitude of the religious world for this valuable gift. (Published by R. Carter and Brothers).

Harper and Brothers have issued a neat octavo edition of Sir John Richardson's Arctic Searching Expedition, comprising a copious journal of a boat-voyage through Rupert's Land and the Arctic Sea, in search of Sir John Franklin – a variety of interesting details concerning the savages of that region – and an elaborate treatise on the physical geography of North America. Sir John Richardson left Liverpool in March, 1848, and after landing in New York, proceeded at once to the Saut Ste. Marie, where he arrived about the last of April. Starting in a few days from the Saut, he reached the mouth of the River Winnipeg on the 29th of May, and arrived at Cumberland House, on the Saskatchewan, June 13 – a distance of nearly 3000 miles from New York. His various adventures on the overland route to Fort Confidence, in 66 degrees of north latitude, where the winter residence of the party was established, are related with great minuteness, presenting a lively picture of the manners of the Indians, and the physical phenomena of the icy North. The history of Sir John Franklin's Expedition, and the present state of the search for that intrepid navigator, is briefly recorded. With the prevailing interest in every thing connected with Arctic discovery, this volume is a most seasonable publication, and will be read with avidity by our intelligent countrymen.

The Future Wealth of America, by Francis Bonynge, is a volume of curious interest, describing the physical resources of the United States, and the commercial and agricultural advantages of introducing several new branches of cultivation. Among the products enumerated by the author as adapted to the soil and climate of this country are tea, coffee, and indigo, the date, the orange, the peach fruit, and the guava. The work, though written in an enthusiastic spirit, is filled with practical details, and presents a variety of useful suggestions in regard to the conditions of national prosperity. Mr. Bonynge is familiarly acquainted with the culture of tropical products, having resided for fourteen years in India and China. His book is well-deserving the attention of the American public.

The Twenty-second Part of Copland's Dictionary of Practical Medicine is published by Harper and Brothers, reaching to the eight hundredth page of the third volume of the work, and to the commencement of the letter S. For laymen who have occasion to refer to a medical work, this Dictionary forms a valuable book of reference, and may be consulted with convenience and profit. Its merits are too well known to the profession to demand comment.

A Reel in the Bottle, for Jack in the Doldrums, by Rev. Henry T. Cheever. Modern allegory is a dangerous species of composition. The taste of the age demands clearness, brevity, point; it prefers practical facts to mystic symbols; and, above all, rejects artificial tamperings with Oriental imagery. Imitations of the venerable simplicity of the Bible are always offensive to a correct mind; and scarcely less so is the ancient form of allegory disguised in fashionable trappings. The volume now put forth by Mr. Cheever forms no exception to these remarks. He has met with but indifferent success, in an attempt where a perfect triumph would have brought little credit. The frequent sacrifices of nature and good taste, which his plan demands, illustrate his ingenuity at the expense of his judgment. He reminds us of John Bunyan, whom he takes for his model, only by contrast. We should as soon expect a modern Hamlet from Bulwer as a second Pilgrim's Progress from the present author. (Published by Charles Scribner.)

The Head of the Family, by the gifted author of "The Ogilvies," forms the One Hundred and Sixty-seventh number of Harper's "Library of Select Novels." It is distinguished for the absorbing interest of its plot, the refinement and beauty of its characterizations, and its frequent scenes of tenderness and pathos.

eander's Practical Exposition of the Epistle of James has been translated by Mrs. H. C. Conant, and published by Lewis Colby. We have before spoken of the success of Mrs. Conant, as the translator of Neander. She has accomplished her present task with equal felicity. Biblical students are greatly in her debt for introducing them to the acquaintance of such a profound and sympathizing interpreter of Holy Writ. Neander wisely avoids metaphysical subtleties. Nor is he a barren, verbal critic. He brings a sound, robust common sense to the exposition of his subject, seeking to detect the living spirit of the writer, and to reproduce it with genuine vitality. A new glow breathes over the sacred page under his cordial, feeling comments, and we seem to be brought into the most intimate communion with the inspired writer. It is no small praise to say of the translator, that she has transferred this lifesome spirit, to a great degree, into her own production.

Redfield has published a spirited translation of Arsene Houssaye's work on the Men and Women of the Eighteenth Century in France. A more characteristic portraiture of that egotistic and voluptuous age is not to be found in any language. It places us in the midst of the frivolous court, where the love of pleasure had triumphed over natural sentiment, where religion was lost in hypocrisy, and earnestness of character laughed out of countenance by shameless adventurers. The brilliancy of coloring in these volumes does not disguise the infamy of the persons whom it celebrates. They are displayed in all their detestable heartlessness, and present a wholesome warning to the reader by the hideous ugliness of their example.

Bon Gaultier's Book of Ballads. These clever parodies and satires, whose cool audacity and mischievous love of fun have secured them a favorite place in the English magazines, have been republished in a neat edition by Redfield. Our too thin-skinned compatriots may find something to provoke their ire in the American Ballads, but the sly malice of these effusions generally finds an antidote in their absurdity. For the rest, Bon Gaultier may be called, in Yankee parlance, "a right smart chap," excelling in a species of literature which the highest genius rarely attempts.

We have a new edition of Walker's Rhyming Dictionary from Lindsay and Blakiston – a welcome aid, no doubt, to scribblers in pursuit of rhymes under difficulties. We hope it will not have the effect to stimulate the crop of bad poetry, which of late has been such a nuisance to honest readers.

Miss Mitford, in her Literary Recollections gives some specimens of poetical charades by Mr. Praed, the most successful composer of lyrical jeux d'esprit of this kind. In the review of her work by the Athenæum, the two following charades are quoted, the latter of which, Miss Mitford says, is still a mystery to her, and proposes a solution to her readers:

I"Come from my First, ay, come!The battle dawn is nigh;And the screaming trump and the thundering drumAre calling thee to die!Fight as thy father fought;Fall as thy father fell;Thy task is taught; thy shroud is wrought,So; forward and farewell!"Toll ye my Second! toll!Fling high the flambeau's light;And sing the hymn for a parted soulBeneath the silent night!The wreath upon his head,The cross upon his breast,Let the prayer be said, and the tear be shed,So, – take him to his rest!"Call ye my Whole, ay, call,The lord of lute and lay;And let him greet the sable pallWith a noble song to-day;Go, call him by his name!o fitter hand may craveTo light the flame of a soldier's fameOn the turf of a soldier's grave.II"Sir Hilary charged at Agincourt, —Sooth 'twas an awful day!And though in that old age of sportThe rufflers of the camp and courtHad little time to pray,'Tis said Sir Hilary muttered thereTwo syllables by way of prayer."My First to all the brave and proudWho see to-morrow's sun;My ext with her cold and quiet cloudTo those who find their dewy shroudBefore to-day's be done;And both together to all blue eyesThat weep when a warrior nobly dies."

A correspondent of the Literary Gazette furnishes the following poetical solution of the two charades in one:

"No more we hear the sentry's heavy trampAround the precincts of the drowsy camp;All now is hush'd in calm and sweet repose,And peaceful is the lovely evening's close;Save when the village chimes the hours forth-tell,Or parting souls demand the passing bell.Would I could grasp a Campbell's lyric pen!I then might justice do to 'arms and men,'And sing the well-fought field of Agincourt,Where, hand to hand, mix'd in the bloody sport,The hosts of France, vain of superior might,By English valor were o'erthrown in fight,And bade to fame and fortune long Good Night!"

Messrs. Clark of Edinburgh have in preparation, translations of the following works: viz. – Dr. Julius Muller's great work on the Doctrine of Sin, translated under the superintendence of the author. – Professor Muston's Israel of the Alps, the latest and most complete History of the Waldenses, translated with the concurrence of the author. – Dorner on the Person of Christ, translated by the Rev. Mr. Kingsford, one of the Chaplains to the Hon. East India Company. – Bengel's Gnomon of the New Testament, translated by the Rev. Peter Holmes, of the Plymouth Royal Grammar School.

Mr. Bohn announces the following important Works as about to appear shortly: Kirby and Kidd's Bridgewater Treatises. —Coin-Collector's Hand-Book, by H. N. Humphreys, with numerous engravings of Ancient Coins. —Greek Anthology; or Select Epigrams of the Greek Classic Poets, literally translated into Prose, with occasional parallels in verse by English Poets. – Oersted's Soul in Nature, and other works, translated from the Danish, with Life of the Author. —Rome in the 19th Century; with Maps and Diagrams. – Kugler's Historical Manual of Sculpture, Painting, and Architecture, Ancient and Modern.

The election of the Greek Professor in the University of Edinburgh was fixed for the 2d of March. The number of candidates in the field was very large, but it was thought that many would retire before the day of election. The principal struggle was supposed to be between Dr. William Smith, of New College, London, the learned author of the Classical Dictionaries; Dr. Price, late of Rugby, the friend of Dr. Arnold; Professor Macdowall, of Queen's College, Belfast; and Professor Blackie, of Aberdeen. The emoluments of the chair are upward of 800l., and the college duties extend only over about half the year, during the winter session from November to May.