Al

stone of the entire structure, the expression of the highest and most faultless philosophy of life. As grown up in the atmosphere of his house, we must next name Recha, an innocent, virtuous, and charming girl, full of eensibility for the beautiful and the good, and full of reverence for the Divinity. Saladin and Sittah reveal themselves of the same class by professing to esteem men only in so far as they are possessed of genuine humanity, that is to say, really noble, virtuous, and good. They receive Nathan the Jew and the Christian Templar with equal cordiality, Saladin expressly declaring "that he never expected all trees to grow with the same bark," while Sittah, on the other hand, complains of, the Christians for being in too many instances more eager to disseminate the mere name than the virtues of their founder, Christ. Hafi is a sort of offset to Nathan, but yet essentially of the same group. Disgusted with the harassing affairs of life, he is resolved to exchange the sunshine of courtly favor for the quiet shade of the Eastern hermit on the banks of the Ganges, where he expects to find leisure for retirement and contemplation, and the society of better men. As we are obliged to give credit to Islam for "the mild, good, noble dervish," so we are called upon to respect Christianity for the simple-minded monk, who with his unassuming piety and sincerity of heart has made himself an honor and an ornament to his faith. Daja is an honest, unsophisticated woman, devoted to Recha and faithful in the service of her charge, but she is of the proselyting class, and there is otherwise not much remarkable about her. Prominent at the head of the positive groups stands "the corpulent, red-faced, affable" old patriarch, the representative of the hierarchy, but full of political intrigue and fanaticism. In this he has advanced so far as to plot assassination against Saladin, although professing external allegiance; and this he palliates with the excuse that "crime in the eyes of men is not such also in the eyes of God." As for Nathan, he is determined that he shall be burnt, for in his estimation it would have been far better for the Christian child, the beautiful and amiable Recha, to have perished in misery than to have been reared in the house of a detested Jew. And for this deed of barbarity he alleges no other motive than the glory of God: “I am impelled," says he, "solely by my zeal for God, and what I do too much I do for him!" A Christian of an entirely different type is repre

sented by the Templar, the high-minded, chivalric young knight on whom the religious war has not failed to exercise some civilizing influence. He nobly and readily performs a perilous duty imposed on him by the pledges of his vow, and has some general sense of honor and humanity about him. Yet he is, like so many of his order of a certain period, scarcely any thing more than a rationalistic incongruity, and in his dealings with Nathan he even betrays symptoms of narrow-minded exclusiveness and bigotry, Under the impression that the Jew desires to divert a Christian child from its allegiance to the "church, he in the excitement of a moment forgets himself so far as to compromise the safety of a friend by applying to the patriarch for aid against him. Such, then, is briefly the characterization of the piece, in which the reader will not fail to recognize distinctness of outline, variety and contrast, and, in spite of the defects of the action, the touches of a master.

Nathan the Wise has passed for the most finished of Lessing's dramatic works. It was upon the whole well received originally, and that not only by the critics, but also the statesmen and philosophers of his own and other countries, and has now bravely stood the test of nearly a century (1799-1868). Its moral effect has been of the most ennobling kind in more than one respect, and we need only name the altered sentiments in reference to the Jews, whose political emancipation in Germany, France, and England, may be traced directly to its initiative.

By

The History of the Great Republic, considered from a Christian stand-point. JESSE T. PECK, D.D. 8vo. pp. 710. The author of this interesting volume avows in his Preface, "that the theory of this book is, that God is the rightful, actual sovereign of all nations; that a purpose to advance the human race beyond all its precedents in intelligence, goodness, and power, formed this Great Republic; and that religion is the only life-force and organizing power of liberty.” In endeavoring to unfold and establish his theory, Dr. Peck has presented in groups the more important events of American history, and has arranged them with much skill and judgment, in order to set forth, as convinIcingly as possible, the views and sentiments which he holds on this subject. The several periods of Preparation, Independence, Development, Emancipation, and Mission, are treated of in a spirit of Christian philosophy,

and with a sufficient fulness of detail to satisfy the reader that the author has carefully studied the history of the past, and has a just claim upon the attention and respect of all thoughtful Americans of the present day. In point of literary merit the volume takes fair rank, although the author's style is rather free at times, and occasionally careless. Of course, in a work of this extent and variety of material, there is room for considerable difference of opinion as to both the facts presented and the uses to which Dr. P. has put them. While it is too much to expect that the good Doctor's statements and interpretations will be received everywhere as law or gospel, yet, we think no one can doubt his entire sincerity, or fail to bestow the meed of praise upon his industry and diligence in the work he has undertaken. The volume is illustrated with a number of fine steel engravings, and is sold by subscription, Broughton & Wyman, Bible House, New York, being the publishers.

SOME New Juveniles come to us from Lee & Shepard, Boston. The first is Dotty Dimple, by the author of the "Little Prudy Stories"-and many happy children have blessed the author of this captivating series of tales. They neither are nor pretend to be profoundly instructive, but, what is much better, they have an atmosphere of childish innocence, which books directed against such crimes as lying, stealing, or drunkenness, sadly lack. Let children be kept as long as possible from the knowledge that crimes exist, and there will be much more real purity than is now found among the progressive youth of this generation. The author of this series seems to have a thorough knowledge of childish longings and feelings, and children as well as older people take especial delight in seeing their own emotions mirrored in print.

Then we have Upside Down, by Rosa Abbott-a practical little work, showing the possibility of a child, even though she

may be a girl, accomplishing a great deal by hard physical labor. The moral perhaps would be better if she were left entirely to her own 'resources instead of being helped out of the mire by rich friends; but the author evidently cannot bear to leave her heroine in the rough, uncultured state in which she first appears. Another of the

series,

The Cruise of the Dashaway, or Katie Put nam's Voyage, is a new story, describing somewhat mistily a child's pleasures and troubles on a long sea-voyage.

From the same publishers we have another volume of OLIVER OPTIC'S "Young America" series, entitled Dikes and Ditches. It describes the cruise of a school-ship, manned by boys, who are supposed to stow away a knowledge of seamanship at the same time that they are mastering the branches of the ordinary school course. Mr. Adams' books are brightly written, and contain a good deal of useful information; but they are deficient in imagination, and the boys of whom he treats are stiff and unnatural. The boy-readers of the present day are, however, as a rule, too prosaic to appreciate this deficiency in their popular author, and this volume, being both entertaining and instructive, will doubtless be well received.

Footprints of Life, by PHILIP HARVEY, M. D. (Samuel R. Wells.) In taking up this book one is painfully reminded of the old story of the schoolmaster who told an unfortunate would-be poet that it was a mistake to begin every line of prose with a capital letter. "Footprints of Life," or "Faith and Nature Reconciled," is a tame version of Natural Theology in the very blankest of verse; and though we are very willing to admit that Faith and Nature are reconciled by Philip Harvey, M. D., our poor humanity will revolt at his description of the process. We are not reconciled, though Faith and Nature may be.

WE stretch a long hand of welcome from this desk of ours, by the fair Atlantic wave, across the continent to our brothers in California, and congratulate them on the promising appearance of their latest literary venture, the Overland Monthly, which comes to us just as we are going to press, but which

should have this welcome if we had to stop the press to give it. Where the Overland comes from, continentally speaking, we know, for the cover tells us, but of its mental parentage we know less than nothing. Who edits it, who writes for it, what opinion it is to speak for, what side it is on in religion, in

politics, in art, we may guess, perhaps, by these first pages, but we are told nothing. Absolutely, no prospectus! No list of distinguished authors who say they will contribute, but who won't! No offers of sewingmachines, or of copies of Tupper or Holland, to people who will buy more copies of the magazine than they want! No confusing "terms," with offers of superfluous deductions for clergymen, who, in this favored land where clergymen get every thing for nothing, or, at the most, for half-price, must pay their "four dollars in gold " like your even Christian, if they want the Overland! And a quiet elegance of outside, too, with such beautiful print, inside and outside, as we have nothing to match with in these parts! Not even Putnam in all his modesty is arrayed like the Orerland. We should like to have this matter cleared up a little! But this is not all On the cover there is a small vignett, so excellent both in conception and in execution, that we at once predict the best that can be predicted of the contents of the magazine that carries such a pat and comprehensive signal to the fore. This is a bit of wood-engraving that Bewick or Linton need not be ashamed of. A grizzly bear—a speaking likeness-stands on the track of the Pacific Railroad snarling at the Locomotive! This is California, the latest field where savage and civilized, the grizzly and the locomotive, meet in grim encounter. Poor Bruin, he looks brave, and will make a gallant fight, but, who cannot see the end of it! contents of the magazine have a flavor of their own. We recognize no eastern hand, certainly no well-known one, and it is plain that the editor has his own cisterns to draw from without dipping from ours. To speak generally, the contents are of a solid and valuable, rather than of what is called a brilliant and entertaining, character. But there are some verses of a higher style than is common in our periodicals, a ghost-story which would have been better if the writer had believed in ghosts, and another story which reads as if it might be a record of fact, but has a dramatic interest and is well told. Then comes solider fare: an article on the Mexican Empire, written by an admirer of Max-and this is the only hand we think we recognize a picturesque and interesting narrative; Hawaiian Civilization, an article containing a deal of information, given in a lively wide-awake style; serious reading for missionaries, and not very encouraging to that class; a rather dry account of Portland-on

The

Willamet, which, though useful enough, is not exactly in place here; an ingenious plea for a sort of convent-life as a cure for the heartache and headache of women who feel their oats in these days; then a few odds and ends, and the first number of the Overland closes. We repeat our cordial welcome, and wish it long life. Few journals have started on their way of late with better auspices.

SINCE one of our contemporaries has boldly led the way in the unfashionable practice of scanning his dinner-bill, and has not hesitated to give us the result of his cogitations, we will pluck up a brave heart ourselves, and own that we have both been scanning our dinner-bill and thinking over our dinner, and have come to the conclusion that we don't like either! This is a step in advance of our neighbor, but we dare say a good many will thank us for taking it. We have been lately to a grand public dinner: for the purpose we have in hand it does not matter how lately, or where. Suffice it, that the dinner was in a noble room, that there was a great display of china, silver, glass, and confectionery, and that every famous man within fifty miles had been hauled in by the nets of invitation, and safely landed upon the chairs that closely hedged the tables. Countless waiters, im maculately shirted, cravatted, and gloved, passed about innumerable dishes; wines flowed, then came talk, cigars were lighted, and, it may be, morning broke over the prolonged festivity. But pay-day came, as it comes after every enterprise whether of business or play, and our share in this one cost us $23. Supposing that each subscriber paid alike, this would make the total cost of the supper something like $6,000. Now we are well aware that in America, in New York at least, 'tis horribly vulgar and quite out of fashion to ask what any thing costs or to trouble yourself about it when you have found out; but we take it for granted that a good deal of this nonchalance is affected, and that much of the indifference we are all so proud of is assumed, in deference to a supposed public opinion. An Englishman in England once said to us, "In America, when you come to settle an account you always say, 'Oh, never mind the sixpence,' but here in England we do not receipt a bill for £500 16s. 3 d. until the farthings have been paid." And it seems to us a monstrous piece of heroism, worse than Curtius' leaping into the Gulf, for Wordsworth to tell his friends, as Emerson

says he did, that if they came to see him they must expect the simplest fare, and that if they wanted other they must pay for it. We are far enough here from any such heroics, and most people will think we are so much nearer to civilization. But any thing is better than living beyond one's means, or getting into debt, and that is what is so common in America as no longer to call for any remark. On this point, however, we have nothing at pres ent to say; our argument is, the prevalent American indifference to what things cost. This custom has already produced one of its worst fruits, the deterioration in things for which money is paid, so that a cigar that now costs three or four dimes is no better than a cigar that used to cost one, and a dinner that costs $23 is rather worse, if any thing, than would be furnished elsewhere, ornaments and extras included, for less than half that cost. Some day or other the limit of extortion will be reached, and then perhaps a few rich Americans may be found with sense in proportion to their wealth, who will know better than to throw money about like peanut-shells, and if for no other reason because they will find that the best things are not to be procured in this way. The hotelkeeper who finds that two or three hundred of the sensible (?) people in the community will pay $23 a-piece for his dinner without a murmur, will very soon cease to care either what he charges or what he gives in return for the money. In this particular case our prophecy has been for some time a thing fulfilled; we discovered no special excellence in the viands provided on this occasion, and if the Boniface had had his reputation to make, this would not have been a promising beginning. But it was the great Panjandrumthe Delmonico himself-whose dinner we were eating, and in the presence of such waiters who could have the courage to give voice to a demur?

MR. MORTON, the discoverer of ether, was one of the victims to the terrible heat of July. This was a gracious release to one who had done so much to lift the burden of pain from his fellows; it was fitting that he who had enabled so many to enjoy a euthanasy or happy death, should himself pass without suffering through the gates that separate this life from the next. Sudden death seems

to have an evil aspect for most people, and is most earnestly deprecated in the Liturgy of the English Church; but we have never been able to sympathize with those who dread it. If by sudden death is meant simply a taking away of one in the midst of life, in apparent health, and with many dependent upon him, and while his fortune is yet to make, we can understand that that is not desirable; but, unless to the very old, death always finds us unprepared, in this sense, and surely if it is to be, the more we can be spared of the pain, the sickness, and the weary waiting that usually precedes it, the happier it ought to seem.

MOST of the readers of the paper in our July number, by the executor of the late Rev. Eleazer Williams, probably reached, with us, the conclusion that the theory of Williams' royal descent was then finally disposed of. But the Rev. Dr. Vinton, of Trinity Church, re-presents the case in this number, with evidence on the other side so remarkable and so forcible, that it would be palpable injustice to withhold it. Whether all of Dr. Vinton's apparent inferences from his facts are logi cally inevitable, may perhaps be questioned by those who have always been skeptical as to the main theory; but the incidents he relates show a combination of circumstantial proofs curious and convincing enough to satisfy ordinary inquirers. The late Dr.

Hawks, whose legal training ought to have qualified him to be a careful sifter of evidence, used to say that many a man had been hung on lighter evidence than that (then existing) of the identity of Eleazer Williams with Louis XVII., and, when a gentleman so competent and so entirely worthy of respectful confidence as the Rev. Dr. Vinton, now produces new proofs, and assures us that he has never faltered during these fifteen years in his faith in the theory, the readers of this Magazine will surely be interested in the facts he has presented. After his article was in type, Dr. Vinton sent us an additional certificate by the late Dr. J. W. Francis, as to the crescent-shaped inoculation mark referred to on page 339. Of course, this whole question has ceased to be of any practical importance-it remains merely as one of the many historic doubts which puzzle and amuse the curious inquirer.

HALOED by the ideal beauty radiating from her face as light does from the morning sun, her hands stretched out as if grasping eternity, Switzerland stands there, the loved and longed-for of all who worship Nature. The ages pass on, and she is younger; the mons are swallowed up in the eternity behind us, but she is fresher and lovelier than when the stars sang together at the creation. There is health in her presence, and virtue goes out of her to those who touch the hem of her garment.

Beautiful Switzerland! How like a bride she looks-genial, glowing, happy -as she stands there, with the snowveil upon her head and the flowers upon her brow, while the little and the great, the wise and the foolish, the grave and the gay, gather from the ends of the earth to do her honor.

Or like a cathedral, full of statues and choice mosaics, with the Jungfrau for an altar, the heavens as dome, and Nature for high-priest. The setting sun lights it up for vespers, and the deep solemn bass of the avalanches closes the Worship with their wild anthems.

Through the lens of books and pictures she can never be fairly seen; and walking in her giant galleries of studies, sketches, masterpieces, we feel as

the ancient queen said to the wise one, “Behold, the half was not told me."

Mont Blanc on the brain, and that for half a lifetime, is something of a load to carry; and one would naturally enough think that one's steps, on a first visit to Europe and Switzerland, would have been turned at once to Chamouni, to get rid of the burden. I was, however, too cautious, or had too little confidence in the slightly exercised limbs of a New York merchant for that. The race-horse must be trained before he starts for the goal. So I bade farewell to the carnival of industry and gayety, to the meeting-ground of mighty kings and emperors-of mightier workers-at Paris, which the Exposition had created or called together; and, taking cars, where the chances that eternity may be revealed through the medium of a

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