a violoncello must do. It can know nothing higher than incarnation, the descent of the higher into the lower; apotheosis, the ascent of the lower to the higher that is for violins and skylarks. The future of our author depends on her acceptance of-nay, her joy in-her destiny; Perseus and Liberty will visit her only when she is bound to that rock. We are sorry to see, in Sir Rohan's Ghost, that she is not thus content, not peaceful. When we got through, we almost felt as if we had been in the terrible studio of a Parrhasia, who had remorselessly stabbed every character that passed, that she might portray its writhings, and when the catastrophe came, we rushed out, hearing only Gods! could I paint a dying groan! - And yet, when we reflected what portraiture that was, what visions of roseate skies, dew, light, conscious nature, gleamed in every drop of that wine, we forgot that we were in a cellar; we can not remember many saloons for which we would leave this cellar, it must be a real Cremona which would draw us from our violoncello! Come, now, the tuning of the instrument has been sufficient, we await the theme-the theme; there is but one for her who wrote this book, whatever be the experimental snatches we have had. Yes Flower o' the peach, Death for us all, and his own life for each! Poems of Two Friends. Columbus: Follet, Foster & Co. 1860. Damon and Pythias here make their literary appearance in some lyrics worthy of their promise, and in costume worthy of our most superior Western publishing house. Mr. Piatt is all aglow, but his fire is not smokeless; he knows what it is to walk the street in its solemn morning silence, and from manifold sleepers rises to him "the still, sad music of humanity," but there is too much swarm about his awakened feelings. If he will not think us inclined to be mystical, we will, fully remembering the many exquisite passages for which our heart thanks him, remind him that the vine, which intoxicates the world, is the most mathematical of plants. Mr. Howells has intellect and culture, graced by an almost Heinesque familiarity with high things; and if it were not for a certain fear of himself, we should hope that this work was but a prelude to his sonata. As it is, we are not sure that it would not be well to take the anti-publication pledge for a year or so, the time to be devoted to amputation of all classics and models who incline him to prefer a luxurious sedan to honest limbs given by nature. We should not venture to speak thus, had we not a real confidence in the genius and promise of the gentlemen who have written this most appetizing little book. A Narrative of the Discovery of the Fate of Sir John Franklin and his Companions. By Captain MCCLINTOCK, R.N., LL.D. Boston: Ticknor & Fields. 1860. Cincinnati: For sale by G. S. Blanchard. This is an account of the North Pole at the latest dates, and is more interesting than anything on its subject save the work of the lamented Kane. Love will always have credit, outside of her own assigned realm, indeed in all realms: Sculpture originated, they say, in the effort of a potter's daughter to preserve her lover's face in the materials used by her father for his wares. And love, mingling its appeal with the sacred tones of a grief which asked only to know the fate of the lost one, sent this brave Englishman and his companions up into those regions where so many secrets await in silence and cold the hero who can wrest them from their icy prison. Something has been added to our knowledge in this work: a new strait discovered, the northernmost land of the American Continent touched, the hitherto unknown coast-line of Boothia southward to the Magnetic Pole laid down, and King William's Island delineated. The work is thrilling, and the maps and illustrations complete. A Familiar Forensic View of Man and Law. By ROBERT B. WARDEN. Columbus: Follet, Foster & Co. 1860. Here is a work that puts "a girdle round about the earth in forty minutes,"not a light, airy Puck of a book either, but a corpulent, ponderous fellow. We will adhere to our "girdle" statement; Man, Law, Woman, Madness, Pathology, the Church, Mind-Force, Etiology, etc, etc. (etcs. ad infinitum), are blown out by this writer like so many soap-bubbles out of a pipe. We observe, with pain, that we have mixed metaphors in that sentence, but we attribute it boldly to the proximity of this book. Seriously, 'tis a pity that men should wander so far from the affairs that they can attend to; we do not say that this author can not do anything on earth from making a Democratic stump-speech up to hardware; but we do protest that he had as well try to obtain hard muscle by pitching feathers as to do any good by philosophical writing. The mechanical portion of the work is excellent. Sermons on St. Paul's Epistles to the Corinthians: delivered at Trinity Chapel, Brighton. By the late Rev. F. W. ROBERTSON, M.A., the Incumbent. Boston: Ticknor & Co. 1860. Cincinnati : For sale by Rickey, Mallory & Co. To Captain McClintock or Kane, mapping out the resources and channels of the Ice King's realms, our debt is great; to Espy and Maury, delineating the inviolable channels of the winds, it is even greater; but so long as men feel themselves to be moving about in an element higher than earth or air or water or fire, a supersensual element, so long will the heart reserve its deepest tribute for those who help to give it the chart of its holy destiny and open the channels of faith and love. To many has this pure and refined spirit done this highest service which man can do for his fellow. The present work, though not so valuable to the general reader as the three volumes of Sermons which have preceded it, is equal to either in reality, abounding in passages of rare depth and eloquence. Life Without and Life Within; or, Reviews, Narratives, Essays and Poems. By MARGARET FULLER OSSOLI. Edited by her brother, ARTHUR B. FULLER. Boston: Brown, Taggard & Chase. 1860. Nowhere more than with The Dial, the very name of which is luminous with the rays of thought which America's representative woman cast upon that of which ours aspires to be an Avatar, can this collection of Margaret Fuller's current literary labors be more joyfully welcomed. "The only true criticism of any good books may be gained by making them the companions of our lives." This is one of her own maxims, and we have so long attained such criticism with these works and others of hers, that to write of them seems like publishing criticisms of one's personal connections. No claim does the world wait to hear established in favor of Margaret Fuller's genius, or solemn mission, or her fulfilment: surely we shall attempt no such task. These utterances of nearly twenty years ago read to-day as the vital warnings and promises of the present; ever old, ever young, they partake of the inexhaustableness of sunsets and auroral flashes and snow-crystals. A few of these crystals we have gathered here. "The idea that Literature calls men to the genuine Hierarchy is almost forgotten." "History will inscribe his (Emerson's) name as a father of his country, for he is one who pleads her cause against herself." "The words uttered in those tones floated awhile above us, then took root in the memory, like winged seeds." "Wine is the most brilliant and intense expression of the powers of the earth. It is her potable fire, her answer to the sun." "The stars tell all their secrets to the flowers, and, if we only knew how to look around us, we should not need to look above." "One sacrifice of the temporal to the eternal day is the grain of mustard seed which may give birth to a tree large enough to make a home for the sweetest singing birds. One moment of deep truth in life, of choosing not merely honesty, but purity, may leaven the whole mass." "I have thought much whether Göthe did well in giving up Lili. That was the crisis in his existence. From that era dates his being as a 'Weltweise; the heroic element vanished irrecoverably from his character; he became an Epicurean and a Realist; plucking flowers and hammering stones instead of looking at the stars. How could he look through the blinds and see her sitting alone in her beauty, yet give her up for so slight reasons? He was right as a genius, but wrong as a character." Adela, the Octoroon. By H. L. HOSMER. Columbus: Follet, Foster & Co. The question is, whether Dion Bourcicault or our Toledo author is rightful discoverer of the romance of the Octoroon? A strong family likeness between them there certainly is, and they are both interesting. The story runs that this work was placed in MS. in the hands of a literary lady of New York to be criticised: a little bird whispered enough of it to Dion B. to suggest the New York Octoroon. Have you not observed that where two persons are said to look alike, you are struck with the perception that one is the original, the other the copy? so that whilst you would say Susan is like Fanny, you would never say, Fanny is like Susan? Thus it is that comparing with this book the Octoroon which Miss Kimberly is acting in our city, we think, the latter more genuine. The Public Life of Capt. John Brown. By JAMES REDPATH. With an Auto-Biography of his Childhood and Youth. Boston: Thayer & Eldridge. 1860. This work contains the materials for the true life of the new Peter the Hermit, who sought to redeem the Holy Places of Humanity. This life must be written from a philosophic stand-point coordinate in elevation to Brown's intent, and must not justify to us Gideon and Samuel and the other model barbarians, whom we venerate at a distance of five thousand years, but would imprison for life in any civilized community. John Brown's method of dealing with slavery was apiece with his false theology and his uncultured mind; his virtue, his fidelity, are what makes the world fit to live in. Look not at the arrow, but the mark; so shall you read from these absorbing incidents a life which Mr. Redpath, with his honest but coarse pencil, can not portray. A friend has handed us the following, which we give in lieu of a more detailed account of this intensely interesting book: JOHN BROWN. Lines for Brackett's Bust. In thee hath sternly lived our fathers' heart, Deep in thy pious soul devoutly burned Thy honest heart all fear and cunning spurned; O good old man! the vigor of thy age Shames into nobleness unmanly youth: Honor enrolled thy name on her fair page Ere thou wert dead, and ancient Faith and Truth, Valor and justice shall thy fame uphold, When our sons' sons shall hear thy story told. THE HISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN THE FIRST THREE GOSPELS. NEITHER of the first three Gospels is separated from the others by a gulf like that which divides them all from John. There are no very radical disagreements between them. In many points they resemble each other, in some they nearly correspond, in a few they exactly coïncide. It is not impossible to combine them in a way that will give one tolerably consistent representation of the life and character of Jesus. But in a critical inquiry like the present, general resemblances are not sufficient. We are in search of historical elements, of original reports of facts and discourses; and a casual glance at these books-Matthew, Mark, and Lukeshows us that, however closely resembling each other, they are not all of equal value to the historical student. It is not proposed to enter here into any questions touching the date and authorship of these Scriptures. Our end will be answered by a shorter method, but one we think no less satisfactory. Let us note the general characteristics of the books before us. The second Gospel we dismiss, because it bears upon its face evident marks of being a compilation; it stands in such a relation of dependence to Matthew and Luke that we can not regard it as a source of original information. The third Gospel puts forth a much stronger claim to historical respect. There are some who contend that it is the earliest and most authentic writing upon the life of Christ. But a few general considerations make this judgment suspicious. Especially if we accept as a sound rule of criticism that a book loses its historical character in proportion as it bears a dogmatical one, are we inclined to look with distrust upon the pretensions of Luke. 1. The traditions about the Gospel of Luke indicate, though faintly, that it was written in the interest of certain polemic opinions. Irenæus, who lived in the year 178, and who is the first to name Luke as an Evangelist, tells us that "Luke, the companion. of Paul, put down in a book the Gospel preached by him;"" and again, with some apparent inconsistency, "The Gospel according to Luke being of a priestly character." To a similar purport Origen, in the year 230, writes: "The third Gospel is that according to Luke, the Gospel commended by Paul, published for the sake of the Gentile converts.” Again, Jerome says, A. D. 392 : "The third Evangelist is Luke, the physician, a Syrian of Antioch, who was a disciple of the apostle Paul, and published his Gospel in the countries of Achaia and Beotia." 2. The preface to the Gospel intimates that the composer was not an eye-witness of the events which he records; that he made use of other documents, and took the liberty of arranging his materials so as at once to please himself and satisfy his reader. "Inasmuch as many have undertaken to draw up a connected narrative of the events which have come to pass among us, as they have transmitted them who from the first were eye-witnesses and servants of the Word, I also, having thoroughly searched the whole matter from the beginning, have resolved, O most worshipful Theophilus, to give you in writing an orderly account thereof, that you may know the certainty of those things [not historical facts merely, but doctrines also-the Greek word λoywv means teachings in the widest sense] in which you have been instructed." Remark that the writer of this contrasts himself with those who were original eye-witnesses and apostles; he confesses that he used such records as commended themselves to his judgment, exercising, therefore, his own discretion in the choice of materials; he acknowledges that he digested and recast them for himself; he addresses his work to one Theophilus, a man of rank, a Gentile, as his name indicates, doubtless a pagan convert in some church which Paul had founded; and the object of the book is to confirm Theophilus in the views or beliefs wherein as a Christian Gentile Christian-he had been instructed. Are there no suggestions in this that some dogmatical tendency swayed the author's mind? Is there not enough in this preface alone to account for the tradition that Luke was a follower of Paul, and composed his Gospel for the use of the Gentiles? And if we have reason to |