miration, its freedoms and odd combinations of things being congenial to Gallic vivacity and to the fashion of apparent disorder as the basis of literary art. The English reviews shook their heads at it as one of the eccentricities of their neighbors across the Channel, chuckled over it as a specimen of the serious works read in France, and we believe no translation of it has been published in England.

It is probable that it will be more widely read in America than in any other country except France, for American society is more akin to that of Paris than we are accustomed to think. The translator has performed a difficult task with excellent success, and while faithfully rendering the original, has given a peculiar grace and quaintness to the English style.

THE PASHA PAPERS. New-York: SCRIBNER. 1859.

THESE epistles, collected from the 'Evening Post' newspaper, are designed to make us see ourselves as others may be supposed to see us. There is so much in every society which is peculiar to itself, and a matter of arbitrary arrangement — so many usages, habits, and 'smaller morals,' which are merely conventional and fashionable, which have grown up by degrees with the progress of experience, and have far run away from the idea of pure reason at which they started that it is very easy to make fun of them by introducing a barbarian, or remote foreigner, to criticise them from the stand-point of a state of nature or of Turkish civilization. Turkey is grotesque to an American traveller, and New-York was grotesque to the Turkish Admiral. The best result, perhaps, of his visit is this volume of satirical 'Pasha Letters;' for we all know that we do a great many rather ridiculous things, which, though they may be inevitable, it will not harm us to be genially and humorously reminded of. Thus, the account of the City Hall, Tammany Hall, and the b'hoys; of the opera, and the young women and young men whom he saw; of how he went to Wall-street, and how he went to church, and how he went to a grand ball, and what he thought of each of these places; of the New-York press, of Boston poetry, and of the doctrine of manifest destiny; these are some of the topics which are treated in a style sufficiently oriental, and with a satire which never degenerates into rancor. The criticism is pleasant with no pretence of being profound or exhaustive; and we are not led to speculate very thoroughly on the philosophy of that species of practical wisdom known as 'humbug.' The truest state of nature is probably a highly artificial state, and he who satirizes whatsoever social ways and means, should, like the author of the 'Pasha Papers,' have much good-nature in him. There is much in New-York public and private life which it needs not a Turk to tell us is less refined, less honest, less spontaneous than we can conceive it; but New-York is as yet in the beginning of its career— is about as old as England was under the Plantagenets — and may some time rival the finest cities of Europe as much in the elegant arts as in political and commercial enterprise.

EDITOR'S TABLE.

A WHISPER FROM 'THE PINES.'-Revolving dreamily, in our mind, after a delicious noon-lunch of bread-and-butter, and strawberries-and-cream, this pleasant June afternoon, the question, whether of the two we should like to choose: to be with a man hight DAWSON, a-catching of muscalonge off Cape Vincent, on the St. Lawrence, with our excellent friend PEUGNET for a guide, or away with our associates of the 'North-Woods WALTON Club,' a-inveigling of the 'Speckled:' revolv ing, we say, these catagorii in our mind, there comes us up, by the last train on our new 'West-Shore Rail-road,' from town, the following missive from a friend, of ours not only, but also of our readers. It is a voice from 'Up in the Pines,' and cryeth in that garden-wilderness somewhat thus:

'Ar the farther end of my garden there is a knoll covered with pine-trees. When the grounds were laid out, this elevation was left undisturbed; and although raspberries, strawberries, and other fruits have been fostered and trained to exercise their blandishments in the intervening grounds, still the best-worn path is that which is the most direct to the pines. I derive much pleasure in observing with what success the labors of POTTER among the flowers and fruits are likely to be crowned; and I realize a just pride in the flattering prospects of those humble but more practical and useful families, the peas, radishes, and potatoes. But when I see how much thought is bestowed upon these classes; the amount of labor performed and pains taken; the anxiety manifested lest the frosts or the storms or the winds of heaven should visit them too roughly, and then contrast my isolated pines, my sturdy, rugged pines, unkempt, unshorn and uncared for, looking down disdainfully upon their ephemeral neighbors, I exult in the hardy old heroes. All the winds are in love with that pine knoll. BOREAS, APELIOTES, NOTUS, and ZEPHYROS - all in turn visit the spot, and revel or sigh on the summit. When the former makes his appearance, we generally retire to a respectful distance, and leave the revellers to themselves. Such a time as they have too! Old BOREAS seizes the cone-bearers in his arms as if he would hurl them to the earth, but they weave their pliant limbs about him, and seeming to delight in the mad encounter, roar and howl in concert, until the tired assailant departs. But when ZEPHYROS Comes with softened violet-perfumed breath, then it is that we sit ourselves down and listen to the murmuring soul-whispers above us.

'Such an hour is the present. After a cold stormy week we have a day of sun-shine

and genial warmth. The farmers who have been talking about the seed rotting in the ground, and who have been lamenting the loss of valuable time, now call to mind the promise that seed-time shall not fail;' and rejoicing in the prospect of a 'good grass season,' are busily at work, with happy hearts. Not less do the birds and the insects seem determined to 'make up for lost time.' The air is full of aërial navigators. Freights by the Atmospheric Line may be quoted as 'improved.'

'The young robins have just been brought out,' or are about to be brought out. I am not able to say whether any débûts have been actually made or not. The only family I have the pleasure of an intimate acquaintance with, is one which took the liberty of erecting a mansion on one of my cherry-trees, without a lease. The first time I saw the trespasser, he was standing on the limb of the cherry-tree with a worm in his bill. When he saw me he looked about for a moment or two and then flew in among the branches of a neighboring fir-tree. His secret was gone! Climbing the cherry-tree, I found three or four mouths propped wide open, in expectation of the intercepted supplies. The temptation to infanticide was very great, as my cherry crop has been monopolized by these fellows for several years. However, after taking the children up to see the 'woolly-heads,' we left them undisturbed. Robins, like primadonnas, are delightful to listen to, but very expensive to feed. I presume that these young people have not been fairly brought out yet, as Madame ROBIN seems to be giving them a kind of preparatory rehearsal. Judging from her actions, her words, if translated, would be as follows: 'FANNIE, my dear, do hold your head up!' 'JULIA, my love, you will persist in turning your toes out!' 'AMELIA JANE, you never will fly gracefully in the world: now look at me!'

'There are some scenes which it is impossible to describe, from the fact that the other senses are charmed by certain influences as much as the eye is pleased. Indeed it always seems as if there were other additional senses participating in the enjoyment. For instance, it would signify little for me to speak of the beauties of nature visible to the eye; of the meadow, the foliage, the blossoms, the plumage of the birds; and little more would be added by an enumeration of the sounds which greet the ear: the songs of the birds, the hum of the insects, the murmuring of the trees, or the roar of the water-fall. There is an indefinable sensation of quiet and tranquillity which we experience, and which adds more of positive delight than aught else. By what avenue of sense we perceive this, I know not: that of feeling can lay a better claim to it than either of the others; but if feeling is properly entitled to the honor, then I hold that to enjoy a landscape one must feel it as well as see it.

'I really thought that I had something to say when I commenced this letter-sheet, but I have filled it, and left it all unsaid.

One more last word' ahout the knoll. We have three or four rustic seats up here. As it was indispensable to the harmony of the scene that they should be rude in construction, I undertook the task of making them myself. I am not much of a mechanic, but I think those benches are a perfect triumph in the way of rudeness. We have an iron sofa or settee in the garden, the design of which is a collection of branches intertwined with serpents: it is thought well of as a work of art; but then any one can see at once that it is a settee, after all. Now, I have carried rudeness to such an extent in the manufacture of my benches, that no one supposes them to be benches until told to sit down on them; and very rarely even then, as it requires constant exertion to prevent tipping over. They are generally thought to be broken pieces of the fence! Does not a success' of this kind deserve to be removed from the humble sphere of mechanics to the realms of high art!'

་

'PAUL BERNOU' should sit once upon the natural benches under our sweetscented cedars, thickly set with pale blue-berries:' moreover, he should hear our birds in the early morning, 'sweeter than the songs of Eden.' Also, he should look into our garden, now at exactly mid-June. Four styles of PEA contest the palm with his the 'corn is green again,' as DEMPSTER sings: dewy beds of lettuce contend with silvery-purple cabbages; and aspiring 'Limas' twine lovingly around protecting poles. And the ROSES! We had the curiosity yesterday morning to count seven hundred and fifty climbing around the porch, opposite the sanctum windows.

THE PROPHETIC OFFICE OF CHRIST, AS RELATED TO THE VERBAL INSPIRATION OF THE SCRIPTURES. BY E. LORD.- In this volume, the Verbal Inspiration of the Scriptures' is argued: first, from the nature and limitation of the office of CHRIST as Prophet, and His exercise of that office, through the instrumentality of the sacred writers, by the inspiring agency of the Spirit; and secondly, from the fact of human consciousness, that men think, and receive and are conscious of thoughts only in words: so that thoughts conveyed to their minds by Inspiration, must necessarily be conveyed in words, in order to their receiving and being conscious of them.' We noticed at some length the two preceding volumes of the same author on the subject of Inspiration. In the first of those volumes, he laid the foundation for what is specially argued and concluded in the present. In particular, he advanced and insisted on the propositions, that we think in words;' that man, by his constitution, can think, receive, and be conscious of thoughts only in words and signs equivalent to vocal articulation; that words necessarily and perfectly express the thoughts conceived in them; that words represent thoughts, not things; that the Scriptures affirm Inspiration, not of the sacred writers, but of that which they wrote; and that an inspiration by thoughts necessarily required an inspiration by the words which expressed them. In the second volume he controverts the prevalent doctrine that Inspiration means a guidance of the sacred writers in the choice of words; shows what was and what was not effected by Inspiration; reviews Professor LEE'S volume on Inspiration; and discusses the subjects of instinct, intuition, and intellectual action, in respect to their relation to his main theme. In the present volume, under the head of the Prophetic Office of CHRIST,' he contemplates 'the Logos in the beginning,' and 'the Logos incarnate,' as the Divine Prophet and Teacher, directly and through the inspiring agency of the Spirit, of all the words recorded in the original texts of Scripture; treats of the nature and limitation of His office as being that of a Legate authorized to utter only the words of HIM by whom he was sent: discusses the question whether the words of the original texts were indeed the very words of God; treats of the revelation of the Logos and the SPIRIT in the Old Testament, and of the FATHER chiefly in the New; examines the theory of Guidance,' and confirms his leading positions, by applying the doctrine of Sir WILLIAM HAMILTON (now exciting so much attention in England and this country) that the Infinite, the Absolute, the Unconditioned, is incognizable and inconceivable to the finite capacity of man; that we can conceive, and consequently can know, only the conditioned, limited, finite; that thought is possible to us only of the conditioned; that to think is to condition, etc., etc. The doctrines that we think only in words;' and that we can have distinct thoughts only of the limited, finite, conditioned,' are in philosophy and theology alike novel; and in consequence of their novelty, we invite the attention of our readers to this able work, especially to the ninth and tenth of the several 'sections' into which its arguments are divided. It is published by Mr. Anson D. F. RANDOLPH, Number 683 Broadway.

LITERARY INCUBATION; AN EGG-SAMPLE TO BE EMULATED. Our readers will remember our old friend 'R. S. O.,' and his faithful reminiscences of days that are no more,' which we published in this department of the KNICKERBOCKER a few months ago. Right glad are we that, retired for the moment from his banking-chambers and putting finance behind his back, he can 'incubate' so flavorously and so freshly. Our 'Persuader,' although a valuable and very popular invention, could be of no service to one whose 'lays' commend themselves so fayorably to the public:

"DEAR CLARK: Those reminiscences of scenes and incidents about home, which get into your EDITOR'S TABLE Occasionally, are exceedingly interesting to me. By 'home,' I mean up and down the river, and all around "'York Island,' from THROGG's Neck to Spuyten-Duyvel creek, and beyond. Whether it is owing to reading such descriptions entirely, or in part to a circumstance which occurred to me not long since, I know not; but certainly my poor head has been teeming of late with the recollections of old times and transactions, local hereabout, and which are demanding release so vociferously, that I feel the necessity of letting some of them out, if only for the sake of keeping the others quiet.

'The circumstance referred to, happened on a visit at the house of a famous storyteller, who lives not many miles from your cottage. When about parting with him, after passing an evening that will ever be a memorable one with me, I took up his hat, which hung near the door, and placed it for a moment upon my head. This was not accidental; for I have a propensity for measuring the pericranium of certain people in this way; and it is not unlikely that some of my friends, if they chanced to observe me doing so, may have fancied that I designed to make away with their hats, or possibly to present them with a new one, and was thus getting the size of their heads for that purpose; but they were sure to be mistaken in either supposition; for, as I said, it is merely my whim thus to estimate the bulk of their brains by means of their hatbands. In this instance, the effect upon me was certainly peculiar; for I found myself presently travelling through the mazes of the past with astonishing velocity.

'One of the first things called up was, the recollection of the marvellous consequences which grew out of my putting into my hat one day, in my boyhood, a scrap of paper covered over with little yellow dots, as it appeared, which had been thrown to me by an old lady, who was dusting behind some ancient pictures on a shelf in the bed-room of an odd sort of a personage, who boarded with her at the time, and who was known many years previously to have made a voyage to China. Having walked home with the usual deliberation of a school-boy, I found, on removing my hat, that the lining was covered with minute black specks; my hair was also filled with them. They were very numerous and lively; and though exceedingly puzzled at the time, as to what they portended, I am now satisfied that they were the germs of ideal fancies, and that they are not all out of my head yet. One consequence of this vermifugal exhibition, as a physician might call it, was the introduction of silk-worms into our neighborhood, and the speedy incorporation of the boys around, (including a goodly representation from the ancient clans CLARKSON and SCHERMERHORN,) into a close corporation for the procurement of mulberry-leaves to feed them with; resulting in a wonderful development of mechanical ingenuity in devising reels, and methods for saving silk, by the said boys, and the occupancy of numerous Bibles and prayer-books-the property of their sisters and sweethearts - with beautiful little 'hanks' of virgin silk, of hues