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late Sultan. The chief cause was undoubt edly his obvious incapacity to rescue the country and the faith from the perils that environ it. Sunk in sloth and debauchery, he had long ceased to be a power in the State. His subserviency to the Russian Ambassador, Ignatieff, and his refusal to part with a portion of his treasure to pay the army are also alleged as the immediate causes of the revolution. Then followed his rather suspicious suicide. That his death was a foregone conclusion is certain. Deposed Sultans seldom live long, and according to Mohammedan law, it would be no crime to put him to death, if Murad, the Khalif, thought a prolongation of his life dangerous to the faith. It is quite possible that the wretched man may have been compelled to open the veins of his arms, on pain of suffering death in a more terrible form; but that a nerveless, worn-out debauchee, such as he was, should commit suicide is almost incredible. The effect of this revolution on the insurrection remains to be seen. The War Minister is a stern Mussulman, and the policy of the new Government must in appearance be a stern one, or the new Sultan will fail to satisfy those who placed him there. All, however, will be in vain; the Turkish Empire is rotten at the core and no earthly arm can save it from dissolution. The Mohammedan, wherever he sets his foot, sooner or later brings decay, dissolution, and death. If any one doubt it let him read the painfully interesting picture of Persia, by Mr. Arthur Arnold, in the Contemporary Review. Let him think of the tyranny and barbaric cruelty

that caused the revolt; let him picture Bulgaria with its tens of thousands slain by the Bashi-Bazouks; let him survey Turkey, socially, financially, morally, or politically, and he will admit that she is irreformable. The Powers appear to be waiting for something, although for what it is doubtful to saywatching each other and permitting matters to drift whither they will. In the face of the prospect of an outbreak between Servia and Turkey, which to all appearance nothing can prevent, the alliance of the three Emperors appears to have gone to pieces. Whether there be any truth in the reported "melancholia" of the Czar or not, much of the difficulty must be traced to his vacillating temper. He is constitutionally a man of peace, and yet, when the crisis comes, he must obey the traditions of his house and empire. Above all, Austria must be checkmated in the subtle game she is playing; for if the Hapsburgs once succeed in supplanting Russia in the affections of the Slavs, the Muscovite dream of a southern capital on the Bosphosus is over. The policy of Great Britain has at length been partially exposed. The rejection of the Berlin note, the magnificent fleet in the Mediterranean, the strengthening Malta and Gibraltar-all seemed to point to an AngloTurkish policy. Earl Derby protests that this notion is unfounded, and his words seem to sound like the death-knell of Mussulman power in Europe: "No one supposes the maintenance of the Ottoman Empire possible, if the Christians become permanently disaffected."

BOOK REVIEWS.

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to the intending settler, it is by no means dry and heavy, as such books are apt to be. Mr. Hamilton appreciates the advantage of combining the dulce with the utile-the attractive with the substantial-and he has contrived to combine them with skill and judgment. It is unnecessary, even if it were practicable, to give any detailed account of the various matters treated of, since a large part of the work appeared originally in the form of letters to one of our principal journals. Still we shall endeavour to give some idea of its scope and char

acter, the more especially because there is a large amount of supplementary information of a valuable kind not published in the newspaper. The author has a keen relish for the beauties of natural scenery, and an observant eye for all the features, animate or inanimate, of the country through which he is passing. Without any affectation of scientific accuracy, he has contrived to give an interesting account of the fauna and flora of the country from Duluth and Moorhead to Winnipeg. The descriptions of scenery on the line of the Northern Pacific and on that tedious voyage down the Red River are well done; and so is the ride from Winnipeg by the Stone Fort to the great lake. There is scarcely a topic on which information is desirable which is not touched carefully, and with all possible fulness. The greatest pains have evidently been taken in gleaning information from all quarters, and it is brought down into the present year.

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which the Company was never entitled, is a
cause of trouble in the heart of Winnipeg itself.
Let us quote a paragraph which is made clearer
by the plan of the city given in the work:-
Between the barracks and the heart of the
city is a large tract.
It contains twelve
hundred lots, of which quite one thousand are
vacant; yet the city is spreading out in other
directions, and even along the Portage road,
beyond this tract. This seems anomalous. Let
us ask the cause. We are told, 'Oh, that is the
Hudson Bay Company's property-they ask
more than other proprietors; in fact, value their
lots as highly as good residence property in
Toronto, and annex terms as to improvements,
so people buy and build elsewhere."" Thus, in
the very centre of the seat of Government, this
hoary monopoly not only enjoys "the unearned
increment" in the value of land, the result of
settlement and the public works, but virtually
shuts out the settler altogether. In short, as
Mr. Hamilton observes, "they hold their lands
in the exclusive spirit of persons whose interest
it is to drain the country's resources, and not
of those having a desire to develop its agricul-
tural and other permanent interests." It is
gratifying to find that the Mounted Police are
working so efficiently; and in connection with
the vast territory they protect, we ought not to
omit mention of the generous notice obituary,
we are sorry to say-of the Rev. George Mc-
Dougall, the faithful Wesleyan minister who
perished in the snow only a few months since

The chapters especially useful for the settler are very satisfactory-on soil, climate, land regulations, forest culture, minerals, fish, domestic animals, &c., with all necessary instructions to the settler. Those on the civil government, on education, on the Indians and half-breeds and the white population, are equally good. There is no effort to be exhaustive, but all that most people will care to know is told without unnecessary verbiage. The history of the old Companies is given in one chapter, and an account of our treaties with the Indians in another. Mr. Hamilton does not conceal his conviction that we -the friend of the Indian and the tried servant have been cheated in the settlement of the both of his Church and of the State. The maps boundary question, there as elsewhere, by the and engravings are good, especially the invaluUnited States. He has also his own opinions able map of the Province and all the circumabout the Pacific Railway and other subjects jacent country far to the north and west; of general Dominion interest. The recent set- indeed the entire “ get up of the work is tlements on a systematic scale of the Mennon-highly creditable to the publishers. ites, the Icelanders, and the Danes are referred to. The first are on the Red River between Moorhead and Winnipeg, the second on the shores of Lake Winnipeg, and the third are to be placed by Lake Manitoba. There is a chapter on the redoubtable grasshopper, with illustrations, which will be of interest to many who are beyond reach of the plague. It appears that he can be got rid of in a settled country like the "Prairie Province," if the people will only combine to fight him out.

There is only one subject to which we can refer particularly, and that is, the position of the Hudson Bay Company in the settled country. It is quite obvious that it lies an incubus upon Manitoba, and will prove more and more, as population flows in, a serious obstacle in the way of progress. This is a Dominion question which must be faced before long. So long as the monopoly lasted—that is, up to 1870-the Company systematically lied about the resources of the country, and now that the iron bands have been loosened, the land grant inconsiderately given in part payment for rights to

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WAYSIDE FLOWERS. By Harriet Annie Wilkins. Toronto: Hunter, Rose & Co. 1876.

This collection of poems is prefaced by the Rev. W. Stephenson, of Hamilton, who tells us of Miss Wilkins, that "there is a delicacy, a beauty, a tenderness, together with a rich hue of thought pervading almost all she has written." We do not find this assertion borne out as fully as might have been desired in the volume itself, unless it be in the particular of tenderness, which it may claim as its chief merit. The tone and intention of the poems are admirable, but their execution is faulty, and their actual merit not very remarkable. Many of them suggest a possibility which none of them fulfil. Like most ladies who commit their sentiments to verse, Miss Wilkins carries too far the principle of poeta nascitur, non fit, and deprives the talent she may possess of the very

necessary adjuncts of correctness of metre and accuracy of grammar. While there are in this volume frequent passages of not a little melody, we have failed to find any poem which runs smoothly throughout, while many of them set at defiance all attempts at scanning. That entitled "Beautiful Lilly" has but one very noticeable faux pas in the metre, and is perhaps as graceful and pleasing as any in the book. Abrupt transitions from one tense to another, which are of continual occurrence, are less mystifying only than the occasional absence in a sentence of any verb whereupon to ring these changes. After a slip like "The hand of they who. sweep round," we

were not altogether unprepared for

"That hand had signed the mystic cross
Whose voice was speaking now."

Most of Miss Wilkins's similes are decidedly conventional, and her metaphors we greet as old acquaintances, except a few such as that of "Eternity's lake," which is not happy in its suggestion of limitation. As representative of several similar instances, we may cite this delightful bit of confusion :

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to cool our parching lips with fruit That grows around the tree of life's best root."

his chief attractions. It follows, almost as a matter of course, that he is prodigal of matchmaking; the fragrance of orange blossoms is unceasingly offered, like subtle incense, to the presiding deity of marriage. In all female ways, feelings, and modes of thought and action, Mr. Trollope is a savant, and what is more wonderful still, he is perfectly at home in the recondite mysteries of female attire-the toilet has nothing to reveal to him which he does not know already Considering that he can hardly have enjoyed exceptional advantages, like Achilles at the court of Lycomedes, his skill in these matters is a rare gift, possessed by few of his sex. His novels have always been, and will doubtless continue to be, prime favourites with the fair. In the novel-reading body politic, woman suffrage not only prevails but dominates, and, therefore, Mr. Trollope will never fail so long as he charms the majority of the electorate.

The present work is graphic and interesting, as all the author's writings are. His characters are incisively drawn, each asserting its individuality, instead of running into one another like colours badly mixed and badly laid He possesses, unfortunately, too great a facility of composition, and that is the cause of most, if not all, of his faults. Almost at the outset we begin with a marriage, and at the

on.

fitness of things. Virtue is rewarded, especially the virtue which, of course, ranks highest

-constancy in love.

Vice receives a rather

A great deal of the poetry is of a sacred char-end we have two—all which is agreeable to the acter, and there are several martial pieces, which are not the most successful in the volume. Canadian subjects receive due attention, and local ones are by no means neglected. The typography is so good throughout that we hesitate to throw on the usual scape-goat, the copositor, the responsibility of the Rev. W. Stephenson's awkward remark that he speak equally definite as to such MSS." as he has examined.

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THE PRIME MINISTER. By Anthony Trollope. Toronto: Belford Brothers. 1876.

Mr. Trollope boasts the distinction, if it be a ground for boasting, of being the most prolific living writer of fiction, Miss Braddon only excepted. Over his lady rival, he possesses the advantage of being what is technically called "moral." Not that he is averse from painting a villain, or introducing a sensational catastrophe now and again; but he does not live and move in an atmosphere redolent of conjugal infidelity and secret poisoning. There is nothing in his novels to which Mr. Podsnap could object, as likely to be offensive or harmful to "the young person." Moreover, he is jacile princeps as a delineator of love and lovemaking; and the wonderful power of invention displayed in turning the kaleidoscope of the tender passion, and presenting it in a hundred patterns cunningly differentiated, forms one of

violent punishment of the Carker type, and everything turns out "as nice as can be." Mr. Trollope is not the only writer of fiction who threads his books one after the other on a

string, like pearls or acorns, as the case may be. Now, although not a bad thing perhaps for author or publisher, to a reader these constant references to previous "chronicles" are annoying, because she (or he) is sure to feel that something has been missed which ought to be known. Not that this novel is incomplete in itself. It is by no means necessary to know the antecedents of the Duke and Duchess of Omnium, Lizzie Eustache, Phineas Finn, Mrs. Finn, or any of the moving figures; still we believe the practice may be carried too far, and sometimes we are inclined to think that it would be better to kill off all these people in a Jacobin sort of way, and begin again in a new world.

We are not going to tell the plot of the story, because it would be cruel to spoil any one's sport. An odious character, one Ferdinand Lopez, a greasy Jew of Portuguese extraction, is the heavy villain. Melonotte, in a previous work, was a sort of Baron Grant, but Lopez, who, without capital, dabbles in guano, Guatemalan shares, and bogus companies, has nothing attractive or interesting about him except his handsome exterior, and that we must take for

granted on Mr. Trollope's word. The political intrigues which are the main feature of the book are skilfully interwoven with vivid pictures of social life in the upper crust of society. Mary Wharton, in another sphere, secures the reader's sympathy in spite of her perversity, first in insisting upon marrying the wrong man, and then in shilly-shallying about marrying the right one. The Duchess, Lady Glen, as she is familiarly called, finds her way to the universal heart, in spite of her giddy, thoughtless nature, so thoroughly warm-hearted, prettily impetuous, and vivacious she always is. The male characters are of the usual type, from the vacillating Duke, the Prime Minister, down to that chivalrous exemplar of the chief virtue we have mentioned, Arthur Fletcher. The scenes at Gatherum Castle, the Silverbridge election, and at Wharton, are all good, and the novel altogether is refreshing summer reading.

OLIVER OF THE MILL. By Maria Louisa Charlesworth. Canadian Copyright Edition. Dawson Brothers, Montreal. 1876.

The number of Canadian editions of choice English works is a significant indication, not only of the enterprise of our publishers, but also of the growth of our reading public. The Canadian publishers of Mrs. Charlesworth's last work, "Oliver of the Mill," have done a good service to the country in giving a wide diffusion to a book so pure, so high-toned, so earnest, and teaching, in a fresh and vital way, lessons that all need to learn.

"Oliver of the Mill" is hardly to be read merely as a story, but rather as studies from life, showing the relation to human needs, cravings, and aspirations, of those great central truths which Christianity has most fully brought to light. There is no speculation, or reference to speculation, in it. Its phases of life are out of the region of "intellectual difficulties." The earnest and single-minded writer draws her teaching from those heart experiences which are common to all, and in which true religion finds its perfect work. The story is one of what is called "humble life," the fundamental needs, joys, and sorrows of which are, after all, so little different from those of a so-called higher sphere. The two Olivers, father and son, are the central figures, unless we add the Quaker grandmother, Mrs. Crisp, who is perhaps the most salient and best-drawn character in the book. Her outside severity, or rather rigidity, combined with real heart-kindness, is well marked, and the cause of the seeming inconsistency is explained in words which have been true of many an otherwise admirable Christian character :

"Her opinions and feelings were many of them narrowed and stiffened by early pressure

from without, instead of being freely expanded from within. This want of early expansion of heart and mind caused her the loss of many touches of feeling and thought that would have moulded her strong nature with more beauty and delicacy. Yet, true in Christian principle and feeling, she lived to win the respect and regard of those who knew her; though her influence over others was not what under freer and fuller training it might have been." "It might be questioned whether Mistress Crisp was ever conscious of an error or mistake in herself; her upright, blameless life, her kindness and consistency, were faultless. It might almost have been wished that she could commit a fault and feel that she had; her strong nature would have been opened and softened by that sense of failure."

The two Olivers, however, are by no means so faultless, though we are shown how the discipline of life for each was at once the result and the corrective of their differing defects. The history of the younger Oliver's childhood is the most pleasant and life-like portion of the book, for the author's specialty seems to lie in drawing_child-life, and the pictures of little Oliver, Baby Meg, and Aleppo the dog, are fresh and charming. The few outside characters-the Caxtons, Dame Truman, the village schoolmistress, Mistress Tibby, and the others who fill in the picture of rural life—are naturally sketched; while around all is the English rural landscape, the castle, the mill, the yellow harvest fields, the rich green woodland, the river murmuring over its stony bed, "hill-sides clothed in the massive foliage of summer, throwing out from their dark background the glory of harvest; or softer hill-sides, where the white flocks were feeding, and verdant pastures with cattle; blue hills in the distance, of which no details were seen, yet giving the beauty of form and hue."

One of the most interesting characters in the book is the old Jew pedlar, Benoni, and nothing is more touching in the whole story than the episode which shows his deeply-rooted and rigid Judaism giving way to the softer, warmer light of Christianity, under the influence of the simple, forgiving faith and love of a little child. Benoni's internal history is closely entwined with that of Oliver, as indeed it had been previously entwined with that of Oliver's mother, the noble and pure-hearted Naomi, whose early death seems to cast a hallowing shadow over the first part of the book.

"Oliver of the Mill" will hardly be as popular as " Ministering Children," the author's first work; but is both more natural and more readable than the one that followed it, the "Ministry of Life." It is by no means free from faults; its construction is rather involved, at least in the first part; there is a little too much formal, and sometimes trite, moralizing; and the treatment is occasionaly awkward and

CURRENT LITERATURE.

inartistic to a surprising degree for a writer of Mrs. Charlesworth's fame. But these defects are far more than counterbalanced by the living lessons of faith, hope, and love in which its pages abound-lessons which the author must herself have learned in the hard school of life, before bringing them forth to help other scholars in the same school; and we are sure that no thoughtful and earnest reader can rise from its pages without feeling refreshed and strengthened for the conflict between good and evil in which all must bear their part.

THE ALDINE: The Art Journal of America. New York: The Aldine Company; Toronto Virtue & Sons.

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of art treasures ever gathered together on this continent. Another, and even more promising indication of this growing desire for art culture, is the wonderful success attained by the superb American Art Journal, The Aldine, so named after Aldus, a Venetian art printer of the 16th century. It is now in the ninth year of its existence, and has already achieved a position and a degree of excellence of which any country might be proud. In its beautiful pages we find examples of all schools. Europe is represented by Doré, Corot, Gerome, Meissonier, Lejeune, and others; America, by Van Elten, J. D. Woodward; Rosenthal, De Haas, Moran, Hows, Smillie; and among Canadians we find Verner, to whom full justice is done in a fine full-page engraving of a Canadian river scene, with Indians shooting a rapid-a subIt has frequently and justly been charged ject highly characteristic of this artist. The against the people of the United States-and engravings are all in the highest style of art, we fear the accusation would be equally true and are often so beautiful and so exquisitely of the people of this country-that their ener- finished as to induce the belief that absolute gies have been too exclusively directed to the perfection has been reached, and that it is impursuit of wealth. There are not wanting in- possible to advance further in the art of repredications, however, that they are becoming sentation in mere black and white. Since the alive to the truth that "man cannot live by beginning of the year the journal has been pubbread alone;" and not the worst of these signs | lished in fortnightly numbers of 50 cents each, of a better state of things is the evident growth -a remarkably small price, considering the of a love for art of the purest and best kind. nature of the contents; and those who wish The fact that the departments of the Exhibition to possess a handsome series of volumes for at Philadelphia which draw the greatest their drawing-room tables, from which to draw crowds are the galleries of painting and other an inexhaustible fund of delight and instrucworks of high art, is proof of a determination tion, cannot do better than subscribe to The to make the most of by far the finest collection Aldine.

CURRENT LITERATURE.

MR. GLADSTONE'S paper, in the Con which he applies to his division of e inciples,

temporary Review, on "The Courses of Religious Thought," is an ingenious puzzle, the solution of which he promises to give hereafter. Confining himself to Christendom, the writer proceeds to classify religious opinion and noopinion. But before doing so, he makes some prefatory remarks, as he observes, partly apologetic, partly admonitory. The apology is written chiefly by way of propitiating the manes of J. S. Mill; the other is a rather fanciful exposition of the difference between principles and opinions.

Then follow "the five main schools or systems"-the Ultramontane, the Historical, the Protestant Evangelical, the Theistic, and the Negative Schools, the last including no less than eight subdivisions Scepticism, Atheism, Agnosticism, Secularism, Revived Paganism, Materialism, Pantheism, and Positivism. Now, although Mr. Gladstone would probably take shelter under the word "rude,"

still it evidently takes unwarrantable liberties with the canons of classification. Is not the Papacy "historical" as well as the Greek, Old Catholic, and Anglican communions? Are not all the first four classes "Theists?" Is it true that the Protestant Evangelicals deny that there is a visible Church in the ordinary sense of the term? When speaking of Papalism or Vaticanism, "this singular system," as he here terms it, Mr. Gladstone is on well-trodden ground; yet he deals fairly enough with it.

There is a touch of unwonted humour in this sentence: "To the common eye it seems as if many articles of Christian belief had at first been written in invisible ink, and as if the Pope alone assumed the office of putting the paper to the fire, and exhibiting these novel antiquities to the gaze of an admiring world." The eight "besetting causes of weakness" in Papalism are, hostility to mental freedom, in

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