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times as though, through weakness of the to those who loved it as much for Mrs. body, her wings were tied :

Browning's sake as for its own. " When I attain to utter forth in verse

flection remains and must ever remain; Some inward thought, my soul throbs audi- for, bly

" while she rests, her songs in troops Along my pulses, yearning to be free,

Walk up and down our earthly slopes, And something farther, fuller, higher re Companioned by diviner hopes."

hearse, To the individual true, and the universe, The Italians have shown much feeling at In consummation of right harmony!

the loss which they, too, have sustained, But, like a wind-exposed, distorted tree, more than might have been expected, when We are blown against forever by the curse it is considered that few of them are conWhich breathes through Nature. Oh, the

versant with the English language, and world is weak;

that to those few English poetry (Byron The effluence of each is false to all; Add what we best conceive, we fail to

excepted) is unknown.

A battalion of the National Guard was speak! Wait, soul, until thine ashen garments fall,

to have followed Mrs. Browning's remains And then resume thy broken strains, and

to the grave, had not a misunderstanding seek

as to time frustrated this testimonial of Fit peroration without let or thrall!” respect. The Florentines have expressed The “ashen garments" have fallen,

great interest in the young boy, Tuscan

born, and have even requested that he " And though we must have and have had

should be educated as an Italian, when Right reason to be earthly sad, Thou Poet-God art great and glad!”

any career in the new Italy should be open

to him. Though this offer will not be It was meet that Mrs. Browning should accepted, it was most kindly meant, and come home to die in her Florence, in her shows with what reverence Florence reCasa Guidi, where she had passed her gards the name of Browning. Mrs. Brownhappy married life, where her boy was ing's friends are anxious that a tablet to born, and where she had watched and re- her memory should be placed in the Florjoiced over the second birth of a great entine Pantheon, the Church of Santa nation. Her heart-strings did not entwine Croce. It is true she was not a Romanist, themselves around Rome as around Flor- neither was she an Italian, - yet she was ence, and it seems as though life had been Catholic, and more than an Italian. Her 80 eked out that she might find a lasting genius and what she has done for Italy sleep in Florence. Rome holds fast its entitle her to companionship with Galileo, Shelley and Keats, to whose lowly graves Michel Angelo, Dante, and Alfieri. The there is many a reverential pilgrimage ; friars who have given their permission for and now Florence, no less honored, has the erection of a monument to Cavour in its shrine sacred to the memory of Theo- Santa Croce ought willingly to make room dore Parker and Elizabeth Barrett Brown- for a tablet on which should be inscribed, ing:

The present Florence is not the Florence SHE SANG THE SONG OF ITALY. of other days. It can never be the same SHE WROTE "AURORA LEIGH."

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REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES. four hundred messages were actually trans- scription of the Electrical Influence of the mitted : one hundred and twenty-nine from Aurora Borealis upon the Working of the Valentia to Trinity Bay, and two hundred Telegraph. These, with a curiously inand seventy-one from Trinity Bay to Va. teresting chapter upon the Various Applilentia. The curious reader may find cop- cations of the Telegraph, and an amusing ies of all these messages chronologically miscellaneous chapter showing that the set down in this volume. Mr. Prescott ex- Telegraph has a literature of its own, presses entire confidence in the restoration complete the chief popular elements of the of telegraphic communication between the volume. The remainder is devoted maintwo hemispheres. It may be reasonably ly to a technical treatise on the proper doubted, however, if direct submarine com- method of constructing telegraphic lines, munication will ever be resumed. Two perfecting insulation, etc. In an Appendix other routes are suggested as more likely we have a more careful consideration of to become the course of the international Galvanism, and a more detailed examinawires. One is that lately examined by Sir tion of the qualities and capacities of the Leopold M'Clintock and Captain Young, various batteries. under the auspices of the British Govern- As is becoming in any, and especially ment. This route, taking the extreme north- in an American, treatise upon this great ern coast of Scotland as its point of depart subject, Mr. Prescott devotes some space ure, and touching the Faroe Islands, Ice- to a detailed account of the labors of Proland, and Greenland, strikes our continent fessor Morse, which have led to his being upon the coast of Labrador, making the regarded as the father of our American longest submarine section eight hundred system of telegraphing. In a chapter en. miles, about one-third the length of the At- titled “Early Discoveries in Electro-Dy. lantic cable. There is not a little doubt, namics,” he publishes for the first time however, as to the practicability of this some interesting facts elicited during the route; and as the British Government has trial, in the Supreme Court of the United already expended several hundred thou- States, of the suit of the Morse patentees sand pounds in experimenting upon sub- against the House Company for alleged marine cables, it is not likely that it will infringement of patent. In this chapter venture much more upon any project not we have a résumé of the evidence before holding out a very absolute promise of suc- the Court, and an abstract of the decision cess. What seems more likely is, that our of Judge Woodbury. This leads clearly telegraphic communication with Europe to the conclusion, that, although Professor will be made eventually through Asia. Morse had no claims to any merit of actual Even now the Russian Government is vig. invention, yet he had the purely mechanical orously pushing its telegraphic lines east- merit of having gone beyond all his comward from Moscow; and its own interest peers in the application of discoveries and affords a strong guaranty that telegraphic inventions already made, and that he was communication will soon be established be- the first to contrive and set in operation a tween its commercial metropolis and its thoroughly effective instrument. military and trading posts on the Pacific Mr. Prescott has produced a very read. border. A project has also recently taken able and useful book. It has been thor. form to establish a line between Quebec oughly and appropriately illustrated, and and the Hudson Bay Company's posts north is a very elegant specimen of the typog. of the Columbia River. With the two ex- rapher's art. tremes so near meeting, a submarine wire would soon be laid over Behring's Straits, or crossing at a more southern point and Great Erpectations. By CHARLES Dicktouching the Aleutian Islands in its pas- ENS. Philadelphia: T. B. Peterson & sage.

Edwin of Deira. By ALEXANDER Smith.

London: Macmillan & Co. Boston : Ticknor & Fields. 16mo.

A THIRD volume of verse by Alexander Smith certainly claims a share of public attention. We should not be at all surprised, if this, his latest venture, turn out his most approved one. The volcanic lines in his earlier pieces drew upon him the wrath of Captain Stab and many younger officers of justice, till then innocent of inkshed. The old weapons will, no doubt, be drawn upon him profusely enough now. Suffice it for us, this month, if we send to the printer a taste of Alexander's last feast and ask him to “hand it round.”


“So, in the very depth of pleasant May, When every hedge was milky white, the lark A speck against a cape of sunny cloud, Yet heard o'er all the fields, and when his

Made all the world as happy as itself, –
Prince Edwin, with a score of lusty knights,
Rode forth a bridegroom to bring home his

Brave sight it was to see them on their way,
Their long white mantles ruffling in the wind,
Their jewelled bridles, horses keen as flame
Crushing the flowers to fragrance as they

Now flashed they past the solitary crag,
Now glimmered through the forest's dewy

Now issued to the sun. The summer night
Hung o'er their tents, within the valley pitched,
Her transient pomp of stars. When that had

And when the peaks of all the region stood
Like crimson islands in a sea of dawn,
They, yet in shadow, struck their canvas

For Love shook slumber from him as a foe,
And would not be delayed. At height of noon,
When, shining from the woods afar in front,
The Prince beheld the palace-gates, his heart
Was lost in its own beatings, like a sound
In echoes. When the cavalcade drew near,
To meet it, forth the princely brothers pranced,
In plume and golden scale; and when they


Sudden, from out the palace, trumpets rang
Gay wedding music. Bertha, 'inong her maids,
Upstarted, as she caught the happy sound,
Bright as a star that briglitens 'gainst the

When forth she came, the summer day was

For all its sunshine sank into her hair,
Its azure in her eyes. The princely man
Lord of a happiness unknown, Ånknown,
Which cannot all be known for years and

years, -
Uncomprehended as the shapes of hills
When one stands in the midst! A week went

Deepening from feast to feast ; and at the

The gray priest lifted up his solemn hands,
And two fair lives were sweetly blent in one,
As stream in stream. Then once again tbe

Were gathered fair as flowers upon the sward,
While in the distant chambers women wept,
And, crowding, blessed the little golden head,
So soon to lie upon a stranger's breast,
And light that place no more. The gate stood

Forth Edwin came enclothed with happiness;
She trembled at the murmur and the stir
That heaved around, - then, on a sudden,

When through the folds of downcast lids she

Burn on her face the wide and staring day,
And all the curious eyes. Her brothers cried,
When she was lifted on the milky steed,
"Ah! little one, 't will soon be dark to-night!
A hundred times we 'll miss thee in a day,
A hundred times we 'll rise up to thy call, !
And want and emptiness will come on us!
Now, at the last, our love would hold thee

Let this kiss snap the cord! Cheer up, my

We'll come and see thee when thou hast a

To toss up proudly to his father's face,
To let him hear it crow!' Away they rode;
And still the brethren watched them from the

Till purple distance took them. How she

wept, When, looking back, she saw the things she

knew The palace, streak of waterfall, the mead,

Brothers. 8vo. Two of the chapters of this work will be recognized by readers of the “ Atlantic" The very title of this book indicates the as having first appeared in its pages, - confidence of conscious genius. In a new chapter upon the Progress and Present aspirant for public favor, such a title might Condition of the Electric Telegraph in the have been a good device to attract attenvarious countries of the world, and a de- tion; but the most famous novelist of the


day, watched by jealous rivals and critics, taposition of romantic tenderness, melocould hardly have selected it, had he not dramatic improbabilities, and broad farce. inwardly felt the capacity to meet all the The humorous characterization is joyousexpectations he raised. We have read it, ly exaggerated into caricature, - the serias we have read all Mr. Dickens's pre- ous characterization into romantic unrevious works, as it appeared in instalments, ality. Richard Swiveller and Little Nell and can testify to the felicity with which refuse to combine. There is abundant expectation was excited and prolonged, evidence of genius both in the humorous and to the series of surprises which ac- and the pathetic parts, but the artistic imcompanied the unfolding of the plot of the pression is one of anarchy rather than story. In no other of his romances has unity. the author succeeded so perfectly in at In “Great Expectations," on the cononce stimulating and baffling the curiosity trary, Dickens seems to have attained the of his readers. He stirred the dullest minds mastery of powers which formerly more to guess the secret of his mystery; but, so or less mastered him. He has fairly disfar as we have learned, the guesses of his covered that he cannot, like Thackeray, most intelligent readers have been almost narrate a story as if he were a mere lookas wide of the mark as those of the least er-on, a mere “knowing” observer of apprehensive. It has been all the more what he describes and represents; and he provoking to the former class, that each has therefore taken observation simply as surprise was the result of art, and not of the basis of his plot and his characterizatrick; for a rapid review of previous chap- tion.

As we read “

Vanity Fair” and ters has shown that the materials of a “ The Newcomes,” we are impressed with strictly logical development of the story the actuality of the persons and incidents. were freely given. Even after the first, There is an absence both of directing idesecond, third, and even fourth of these sur- as and disturbing idealizations. Everyprises gave their pleasing electric shocks thing drifts to its end, as in real life. In to intelligent curiosity, the dénouement was “Great Expectations” there is shown a still hidden, though confidentially fore- power of external observation finer and told. The plot of the romance is therefore deeper even than Thackeray's; and yet, universally admitted to be the best that owing to the presence of other qualities, Dickens has ever invented. Its leading the general impression is not one of obevents are, as we read the story consecu- jective reality. The author palpably uses tively, artistically necessary, yet, at the his observations as materials for his creasame time, the processes are artistically tive faculties to work upon; he does not concealed. We follow the movement of record, but invents; and he produces somea logic of passion and character, the real thing which is natural only under condipremises of which we detect only when tions prescribed by his own mind. He we are startled by the conclusions. shapes, disposes, penetrates, colors, and

The plot of “Great Expectations” is contrives everything, and the whole acalso noticeable as indicating, better than tion is a series of events which could any of his previous stories, the individu- have occurred only in his own brain, and ality of Dickens's genius. Everybody which it is difficult to conceive of as ac. must have discerned in the action of his tually “happening.” And yet in none of mind two diverging tendencies, which, in his other works does he evince a shrewder this novel, are harmonized. He possesses insight into real life, and a clearer percepa singularly wide, clear, and minute pow- tion and knowledge of what is called “the er of accurate observation, both of things world.” The book is, indeed, an artistic and of persons; but his observation, keen creation, and not a mere succession of and true to actualities as it independently humorous and pathetic scenes, and deis, is not a dominant faculty, and is op- monstrates that Dickens is now in the posed or controlled by the strong tenden- prime, and not in the decline of his great cy of his disposition to pathetic or hu- powers. morous idealization. Perhaps in “ The The characters of the novel also show Old Curiosity Shop" these qualities are how deeply it has been meditated; for, best seen in their struggle and diver. though none of them may excite the pergence, and the result is a magnificent jux. sonal interest which clings to Sam Weller

Rusting a neighbor's gold, mildewing wheat,
And blistering the pure skin of chastest maid, -
Edwin and Bertha sat in marriage joy,
From all removed, as heavenly creatures

Alit upon a hill-top near the sun,
When all the world is rest of man and town
By distance, and their hearts the silence fills.
Not long: for unto them, as unto all,
Down from love's height unto the world of


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The gloomy belt of forest — fade away
Into the gray of mountains! With a chill
The wide strange world swept round her, and

she clung
Close to her husband's side. A silken tent
They spread for her, and for her tiring-girls,
L'pon the hills at sunset. All was hushed
Save Edwin; for the thought that Bertha slept
In that wild place, - roofed by the moaning

wind, The black blue midnight with its fiery pulse,So good, so precious, woke a tenderness In which there lived uneasily a fear That kept him still awake. And now, high

нр, There burned upon the mountain's craggy top Their journey's rosy signal. On they went; And as the day advanced, upon a ridge, They saw their home o'ershadowed by a cloud; And, hanging but a moment on the steep, A sunbeam touched it into dusty rain; And, lo, the town lay gleaming 'mong the

woods, And the wet shores were bright. As nigh they

drew, The town was emptied to its very babes, And spread as thick as daisies o'er the fields. The wind that swayed a thousand chestnut

cones, And sported in the surges of the rye, Forgot its idle play, and, smit with love, Dwelt in her fluttering robe. On every side The people leaped like billows for a sight, And closed behind, like waves behind a ship. Yet, in the very hubbub of the joy, A deepening hush went with her on her way; She was a thing so exquisite, the hind Felt his own rudeness; silent women blessed The lady, as her beauty swam in eyes Sweet with unwonted tears. Through crowds

she passed, Distributing a largess of her smiles; And as she entered through the palace-gate, The wondrous sunshine died from out the air, And everything resumed its common look. The sun dropped down into the golden west, Evening drew on apace; and round the fire The people sat and talked of her who came That day to dwell amongst them, and they

praised Her sweet face, saying she was good as fair.

“So, while the town hummed on as was its

wont, With mill, and wheel, and scythe, and lowing

steer In the green field, - while, round a hundred

Occasion called with many a sordid voice.
So forth they fared with sweetness in their

That took the sense of sharpness from the

Sweet is love's sun within the heavens alone,
But not less sweet when tempered by a cloud
Of daily duties! Love's elixir, drained
From out the pure and passionate cup of

Is sweet; but better, providently used,
A few drops sprinkled in each common dish
Wherewith the human table is set forth,
Leavening all with heaven. Seated high
Among his people, on the lofty dais,
Dispensing judgment, — making woodlands

Behind a flying hart with hound and horn, -
Talking with workmen on the tawny sands,
'Mid skeletons of ships, how best the prow
May slice the big wave and shake off the

foam, -
Edwin preserved a spirit calm, composed,
Still as a river at the full of tide;
And in his eye there gathered deeper blue,
And beamed a warmer summer. And when

The angry blood, at sloth, or fraud, or wrong,
Something of Bertha touched him into peace
And swayed his voice. Among the people

Queen Bertha, breathing gracious charities,
And saw but smiling faces; for the light
Aye looks on brightened colors. Like the

(Beloved of all the happy, often sought
In the slow east by hollow eyes that watch)
She seemed to husked and clownish gratitude,
That could but kneel and thank. Of industry
She was the fair exemplar, as she span
Among her maids; and every day she broke
Bread to the needy stranger at her gate.
All sloth and rudeness fled at her approach;
The women blushed and courtesied as she

Preserving word and smile like precious gold;
And where on pillows clustered children's

heads, A shape of light she floated through their


Brown Labor boasted of the mighty deeds
Done in the meadow swaths, and Envy hissed
Its poison, that corroded all it touched, -

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