Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Vol IV. No. XX. January, 1852.

An address to the Hungarian ex-president, from the citizens of Bath, was headed by the signature of Walter Savage Landor. His letter, in reply to Kossuth’s acknowledgment, is worth recording, as a memorial of one so well known in the world of letters: “Sir – The chief glory of my life is, that I was the first in subscribing for the assistance of the Hungarians at the commencement of their struggle; the next is, that I have received the approbation of their illustrious chief. I, who have held the hand of Kosciusko, now kiss with veneration the signature of Kossuth. No other man alive could confer an honor I would accept.”

In a notice of Springer’s Forest Life and Forest Trees (published by Harper and Brothers), the London Spectator suggests a singular comparison between the population of England and the United States, as afforded by the social position of the respective countries: “The volume will be found interesting from its pictures of hardship, exertion, skill, and adventure, in a country little known to the English reader even from books. It has also an interest of a deeper kind. It is impossible to look at the willing labors of these men, and to consider them as only a portion of the rural population of the United States, without seeing what a raw material they possess for war or enterprise. It is the tendency of a dense population and a high civilization to dwarf the physical powers and energies of men in two ways – by congregating large numbers of men in cities, and engaging them in pursuits which if not absolutely injurious to health, are destructive to hardihood; and by removing from the face of a country those natural obstacles which call forth energy and readiness of resource. In England, the working agriculturist is the most helpless of men out of his routine, from his having nothing to contend with: the ‘navvies,’ miners, and mariners, are almost the only classes trained to endurance and great physical exertion in their regular business, except the navy and perhaps the army, as special vocations.”

The London Examiner pronounces Layard’s abridged edition of Nineveh (just re-published by Harper and Brothers), “A charming volume, to which we may safely promise a circulation without limit, and as unbounded popularity. The great feature of the Abridgement is, the introduction of the principal biblical and historical illustrations (forming a separate section of the original work) into the narrative, which, without sacrificing any matter of importance, makes the story more compact, useful, and, indeed, complete in its abridged, than it was in its original form.”

Sheriff Alison, the historian, has been re-elected Lord Rector of Glasgow University.

In a recent synodical letter of the Bishop of Luçon, among the books denounced as immoral and dangerous, are Anquetil’s “History of France,” Thiers’s “History of the French Revolution,” Lemaistre de Sacy’s “Translation of the New Testament,” “Le Bonhomme Richard,” and, lastly, “Robinson Crusoe!” Facts like these require no comment.

The French papers state that Lord Brougham, in his retreat at Cannes, is preparing for publication a work entitled, “France and England before Europe in 1851.”

The extraordinary popularity of Walter Scott in France, is illustrated by the announcement of the publication of another volume of the twentieth edition of Defauconpret’s translation of his novels, and the announcement of the publication of an entirely new translation of the said novels. If Defauconpret had been the only translator, twenty editions would have been an immense success; but there are besides, at the very least, twenty different translations of the complete works (many of which have had two, three, or four editions) and innumerable translations of particular novels, especially of “Quentin Durward.” In fact, in France as in England, Scott dazzles every imagination and touches every heart – whatever be his reader’s degree of education, or whatever his social position. His popularity amongst the lower orders, in particular, is so extraordinarily great, that it forms one of the most striking literary events of the present century.

The Leader announces a new work from Guizot, with the promising title of Méditations et Etudes morales; a novel by the Countess D’Orsay, called L’Ombre du Bonheur; and an important work by Gioberti, Di rinovamento civile d’Italia, the first part being devoted to the Errors and Schemes of the day: the second to Remedies and Hopes. To those who love pure literature, we know not what more agreeable volume to recommend than the one just issued of Saint Beuve’s Causeries du Lundi. It contains some of the best portraits he has ever drawn; and a charming gallery they make. We pass from Rabelais to Vauvenargues, from the Duc de Saint Simon to Frederick the Great, from Diderot to the Duchesse de Maine, from Camille Desmoulins to Madame Emilie de Girardin. The necessity of limiting his articles to the exigencies of a newspaper, has forced Saint-Beuve into a concision both of style and exposition, which greatly improves his sketches; and we know not which to admire most, the variety of his attainments or the skill of his pencil.

In History and Biography, European Continental literature has not been doing very much lately. There is a new or newer volume, the eleventh, of Thiers’s Consulate and Empire, and a Paris journalist of high repute, M. de la Guerronniere commences a promised series of Portraits Politiques Contemporains (“Portraits of Political Contemporaries”), with a monograph of that “nephew of his uncle,” the Prince-President of the French Republic. A. M. Leonard Gallois publishes in four volumes, with illustrations, a Histoire de la Révolution de 1848 (“History of the Revolution of 1848”), written from a republican-of-the-morrow point of view. Saint-Beuve contributes to The Constitutionnel graceful sketches of the lately-deceased Duchess of Angouleme, and of Rivarol, the Royalist pamphleteer and man-of-all-work in the first revolution, famed for the plaintive epigram, “Mirabeau is paid, not sold; I am sold but not paid,” one of the saddest predicaments that poor humanity can find itself in. A. M. Coindet has compressed Warburton’s Prince Rupert and the Cavaliers into a handy Histoire de Prince Rupert (“History of Prince Rupert”). The Germans send us the Leben and Reden Sir Robert Peel’s (“Life and Speeches of Sir Robert Peel”), tolerably compiled by one Kunzel, and Italy has produced a new Life of Paganini. Worthy of more extensive notice is Edouard Fleury’s Saint-Just et la Terreur (“Saint Just and the Reign of Terror”), a biography of the “great Saint of the Mountain,” the fellow-triumvir of Robespierre, and partaker of his fate, though not five-and-twenty; the fanatic young man who, scarcely beginning life, declared, “for revolutionists there is no rest but in the tomb!” Fleury is a clever and active young journalist in the department of the Aisne, Saint-Just’s birth-country – the same who lately brought out the very interesting “Memoir of Camille Desmoulins,” and an equally interesting historical study, “Babæuf and Socialism in 1796.“ Fleury has gone about his biographical task in the proper way; roamed up and down the country side, sketching the scenery in which his subject spent “a sulky adolescence,” and collecting anecdotes and reminiscences. One of these is worth retailing. An old woman who knew Saint-Just well when a boy, pointed out “an alley of old trees” where he used to stalk and spout: when he came into the house, after one of these soliloquies, quoth the old woman, “he would say terrible things to us!”

First in the list of recent French novels is the far-famed Jules Janin’s Gaieties Champêtres (“Rural Gaieties”), which all Paris is eagerly devouring. The scene is laid in the era of Louis XV., and the story (alas!) is worthy of the period, and must not be recited here. More innocent are Les Derniers Paysans (“The Last Peasants”), by Emile Souvestre, a cycle of graphic, and, for the most part, gloomy stories, meant to embalm the superstitions, which still linger among the peasantry of Brittany, soon to be dispelled by the march of civilization. Armand Barthet’s Henriette, though a touching tale, is not to be recommended. Alphonse Karr, a writer scarcely so well known out of France as he deserves to be, promises Recits sur la Plage (“Stories from the Sea Shore”). Karr is the only living French novelist who reminds one at all of Thackeray, of whom he has some of the caustic bitterness, but none of the light playfulness. He first became known by his Guêpes (“Wasps”), a periodical consisting of little, sharp, sarcastic, and isolated sentences, aimed at the quacks and quackeries of the day. With all this, he has a true feeling for nature, which is sometimes, however, carried to an absurd length.

A recent number of the official Moniteur contains a long report to the Minister of Public Instruction, by M. Vattemare, on the “literary exchanges” which have recently been effected between France and the United States. It is not, perhaps, generally known that the governments, universities, colleges, scientific societies, literary establishments, medical and legal bodies, borough municipalities, and commercial associations of the two countries, have for years past been in the habit of making exchanges of books. They have thus got rid of duplicate copies which were rotting on their shelves, and have received in return works which it would have cost vast sums to purchase. A more useful arrangement could not possibly be conceived; and at the same time it has the advantage of spreading knowledge, and of increasing the friendly relations between the two peoples.

M. Ch. Pieters has published the “Annales de l’Imprimerie Elzevirienne,” giving copious details on the life and exertions of the famous printers, the Elzevirs. This book is the result of very extensive researches on this subject, as there were fourteen members of that family who were printers and publishers during a period of 120 years. M. Pieters’s book contains quite new data obtained from authentic sources; to which he has added a list of all the works issued from the Elzevir presses, followed by one of those which have been erroneously attributed to them, and another of such as are the continuation of works published at that celebrated establishment.

The Paris papers state that the Free Society of Fine Arts in that capital are subscribing for a monument to the Late M. Daguerre – who was a member of their body – to be erected at Petit-Brie, where the distinguished artist lies buried.

Henry Heine, the German poet, whom his countrymen insist on comparing with Lord Byron, has published a collection of the poems of his later years, under the title of “Romances.” The book, which all the German papers concur in eulogizing, and a large edition of which was sold within a few days after its publication, is divided into three parts, Histories, Lamentations, and Hebrew Melodies. A brief prose notice prefixed announces that the skeptic has become a believer, and hurls defiance at the Hegelians refusing (to use his own words) “to herd swine with them any longer.” This celebrated poet, and perhaps the only man who has succeeded in uniting German solidity and grandeur to French elegance and wit, is now languishing on his death-bed. Recovery is impossible, and his state is such that death would be almost a blessing, though in him the world would lose one of the most remarkable geniuses of modern times. In the intervals between the paroxysms of his malady he composes verses, and (being deprived of the use of his limbs and of his eyesight) dictates them to his friends. He also occupies himself at times in inditing memoirs of his life, and as he has seen a good deal of French society, and was a shrewd and intelligent observer, he has much to say. One consequence of his long and lamentable sickness has been to effect a complete change in his religious views – the mocking Voltairian skeptic has become a devout believer.

We see it stated that in the short space of time between the Easter fair and the 30th of September there were published in Germany no less than 3860 new works, and there were on the latter date 1130 new works in the press. Nearly five thousand new works in one country of Europe in one half year! Of the 3860 works already published, more than half treat of various matters connected with science and its concerns. That is to say – descending to particulars – 106 works treat of Protestant theology; 62 of Catholic theology; 36 of philosophy; 205 of history and biography; 102 of languages; 194 of natural sciences; 168 of military tactics; 108 of medicine; 169 of jurisprudence; 101 of politics; 184 of political economy; 83 of industry and commerce; 87 of agriculture and forest administration; 69 of public instruction; 92 of classical philology; 80 of living languages; 64 of the theory of music and the arts of design; 168 of the fine arts in general; 48 of popular writings; 28 of mixed sciences; and 18 of bibliography. It is satisfactory to see, after their recent comparative neglect, that science and the arts begin to resume their old sway over the German mind.

The Frankfort journals state that, in consequence of the rigor displayed by the Saxon Government with respect to the press, the booksellers of Leipzig seriously intend to remove the general book fair to Berlin or Brunswick.

In Germany, Austria excluded, appear 746 newspapers; of which 646 are printed in German, 5 in French, 1 in English, 15 in Polish, 3 in Wendish (the Wenden are a Slavonic people in the midst of Germany), 7 in the Lutheran language. In all Europe, according to official statements, 1356 news papers are published, of which 169 are issued at Paris, 97 at London, 79 at Berlin, 68 at Leipzig, 36 at St. Petersburg, 24 at Vienna.

Dr. Augustus Pfizmaier, of Vienna, has published the first part, in ninety-two pages folio, of a Dictionary of the Japanese language.

Baron Alexander von Humboldt has announced the discovery at Athens of the edifice in which the Council of Four Hundred was in the habit of assembling in ancient times. Few particulars of the alleged discovery are given; but it is added, that more than a hundred inscriptions have been found by the excavators – and that a number of columns, statues, and other relics have been already dug up.

Dr. Hefele’s German work on Cardinal Ximenes and the Ecclesiastical Affairs of Spain in the 15th and 16th century, has just reached a second edition.

One of the principal literary men of Spain, Don Juan Hartzenbusch, assisted by the publisher, Senor Rivadencyra, has commenced a reprint of the works of her most distinguished authors, from the earliest ages to the present time. This reprint is entitled “Biblioteca de Autores Espanoles,” and it is a more difficult undertaking than things of the kind in western and northern Europe. For as very many of the works of the principal authors never having been printed at all, the compiler has to hunt after them in libraries, in convents, and in out-of-the-way places; while others, having been negligently printed, or “improved” by friends, or disfigured by enemies, have to be revised line by line. Some idea of the importance of this gentleman’s labors maybe formed from the fact, that he has brought to light not fewer than fourteen comedies of Calderon de la Barca, which previous editors were unable to discover. The total number of Calderon’s pieces the world now possesses is therefore 122; and there is every reason to believe that they are all he wrote, with the exception of two or three, which there is not the slightest hope of recovering. In addition to this, M. Hartzenbusch has carefully corrected the text from the original manuscripts in the Theatre del Principe, or authentic copies deposited elsewhere; and he has added notes, which throw great light on the most obscure passages. Moreover, he has given a chronological table of the order in which Calderon produced his plays. But what, perhaps, is the most curious thing of all is, that he demonstrates that “le grand Corneille” of France actually borrowed, not plots alone, but whole passages from Calderon. His play of Heraclius, for instance, has evidently been taken from Calderon’s comedy called En esta vida todo es verdad y todo mentira. Some of the passages are literal translations.

Daily, about noon, writes the Weser Zeitung, the loungers “Under the Linden” at Berlin, are startled by the extraordinary appearance of a tall, lanky woman, whose thin limbs are wrapped up in a long black robe or coarse cloth. An old crumpled bonnet covers her head, which, continually moving, turns restlessly in all directions. Her hollow cheeks are flushed with a morbid coppery glow; one of her eyes is immovable, for it is of glass, but her other eye shines with a feverish brilliancy, and a strange and almost awful smile hovers constantly about her thin lips. This woman moves with an unsteady, quick step, and whenever her black mantilla is flung back by the violence of her movements, a small rope of hair, with a crucifix at the end, is plainly seen to bind her waist. This black, ungainly woman is the quondam authoress, Countess Ida Hahn-Hahn, who has turned a Catholic, and is now preparing for a pilgrimage to Rome, to crave the Pope’s absolution for her literary trespasses.

Professor Nuylz, whose work on canon law has but recently been condemned by the Holy See, resumed his lectures at Turin, on the 6th. The lecture-room was crowded, and the learned professor was received with loud applause. In the course of his lecture he adverted to the hostility of the clergy, and to the Papal censures of his work, which censures he declared to be in direct opposition to the rights of the civil power. He expressed his thanks to the ministry for having refused to deprive him of his chair.

We hear from Rome that the library of the Vatican is to receive the valuable collection of Oriental manuscripts made by the late Monsignor Molsa – Laureani’s successor.

Two curious instances of the favor that Literature and Art are to receive from the Ultra-montane party on the continent of Europe, have recently occurred. From Paris we learn that a relative of Mr. Gladstone has been excluded from a cercle, or club, in that city by the priestly party, because his uncle, the member for Oxford, had the courage to denounce the senseless tyranny of the Neapolitan government! The other instance amounts to the grotesque. It is the case of a young Roman artist, who is banished from Rome for the crime of being called Giovanni Mazzini! The very name of the late Triumvir – it would seem – is about to be proscribed in the Roman States, as that of Macgregor was, in time gone by, in Scotland. To the question “What’s in a name?” the Roman government gives a very significant and practical reply.

We learn from Münster, Westphalia, that some fresco paintings of the 13th century have been lately discovered in the church at Seremhorst, near that town, and that a curious specimen of painted glass has been found at Legenwinden. In the chief aisle of Patroklus Church, at Soest, Romanic frescos and statuettes of the 12th century have been discovered, and measures taken to remove from them the coatings of lime and plaster which the fanaticism or the ignorance of former years has heaped on them. It has also been discovered that the Nicolai Chapel, in Soest Cathedral, is entirely covered with very curious paintings of the 12th century.

On the 29th October, died at Brighton, Mr. William Wyon, a medal engraver of admirable skill, and probably more widely known by his works than any other living artist. Mr. Wyon was the engraver of the later coins of King George the Fourth, and of all the coins of William the Fourth and of her present Majesty. Mr. Wyon’s medals include the recent war medals of the Peninsula, Trafalgar, Jellalabad, and Cabul – the civic medals of the Royal Academy, the Royal Society, the Royal Institution, the Geological Society, the Geographical Society, the Bengal Asiatic Society, and indeed of almost every learned society, home and colonial. Mr. Wyon was in his 57th year. Much of his genius is inherited by his son Leonard – known by his medals of Wordsworth and others, and honorably distinguished in the recent awards at the Great Exhibition.

The London journals announce the decease of the Rev. J. Hobart Caunter. Eighteen years ago this gentleman’s appearances in the world of ephemeral literature were frequent – and fairly successful. He was the author of “The Island Bride,” a poem of some length, and editor of “The Oriental Annual.” Besides these, Mr. Caunter produced translations, and one or two graver works on historical and Biblical subjects.

The foreign papers report the death of the Chevalier Lavy, Member of the Council of Mines in Sardinia, and of the Academy of Sciences in Turin – and described as being one of the most learned of Italian numismatists. He had created at great cost a Museum of Medals, which he presented to his country, and which bears his name.

The French papers report the death, at Moscow, of M. de Saint Priest – a member of the French Academy, formerly a Peer of France – and the author of several historical works.

Dr. Paul Erman, the Nestor of Prussian savans, died recently at Berlin, at the advanced age of eighty-seven. In addition to innumerable articles on different subjects in scientific periodicals, he published important works on electricity, galvanism, magnetism, physiology, and optics.

The Continental papers report the death, at Jena, of Professor Wolff. – Professor Humbert, of the Academy of Geneva, a distinguished Orientalist, and author of many learned works, is also reported to have died, on the 19th of last month.

MR. POTTS’S NEW YEAR’S

Mr. T. Pemberton Potts – thus he always wrote his name, though the “Family Record,” which sets forth the genesis of the house of Potts, does not contain the sonorous trisyllable which follows the modest initial T., which is all that he ever acknowledges of his baptismal appellation of Timothy – Mr. Potts had been in great tribulation all day, in the apprehension that hatter, or tailor, or bootmaker would fail to send home the articles of their craft in which he proposed to make a sensation in his to-morrow’s “New-Year’s Calls.” But his apprehensions were groundless. For a wonder, all these artists kept their word; and the last installment arrived fully two hours before the Old Year had taken its place in the silent and irrevocable Past. As one by one came in the brilliant beaver, the exquisite paletot, the unimpeachable swallow-tail, the snowy vest, the delicate, pearl-gray “continuations,” and the resplendent boots, which Cinderella might have assumed, had she lived in the days of “Bloomerism,” Mr. Potts displayed them scientifically over a chair, and gazed upon the picture they presented, as fondly as painter ever gazed upon the canvas upon which he had flung his whole burning soul.

When Mr. Potts awoke on the following morning, he was half afraid to open his eyes, for fear that the whole should prove a dream, too blissful to be true. After he had mustered courage to look, and found it to be all real, he lay for a while in lazy rapture, feeding his eyes upon the picture, which seemed more beautiful by daylight than it had appeared by the midnight camphene, of the preceding night.

Having performed the initial rites of the toilet, Mr. Potts attempted to assume the admired boots; but found to his cost that the disciple of St. Crispin had too literally obeyed his injunctions to give him a “snug fit.” In vain he tugged and pulled, excoriating his fingers against the unyielding straps – his dressing apparatus did not comprise a pair of boot-hooks – his foot would no more in than Lady Macbeth’s blood-fleck would out. At last, by dispensing with his “lambs-wools,” diligently lubricating the leather, and introducing a handkerchief into one strap, and a towel into the other, so as to gain a firmer hold, he succeeded in insinuating his naked feet into their places. “It is the first step that costs,” says the French proverb, and Mr. Potts’s first step in his new boots cost him an agonizing thrill in his toes, which threatened to put a veto upon his hopes of wearing them that day. Having fully arrayed himself, Mr. Potts mounted a chair, so as to bring the lower part of his figure within the range of his somewhat diminutive dressing-glass, and finding that the image which met his view fully equaled his anticipations, he bestowed upon it a farewell smile of approbation and set off upon his rounds.