tain state, the unfolding of the others becomes a matter of course. As soon as the mathematical sciences, the force sciences, the physical, the chemical, and the physiological sciences are more or less complete, the social sciences, by which are meant politics and political economy, must arrive at a greater certitude and perfection.

Mr. Dove's classification of the sciences is similar to Comte's, and yet in many respects quite different. He is not a simple positionist, like Comte, but admits of intuitive or metaphysical truths which Comte rejects. In the order of his arrangement, too, he does not follow precisely the same sequence as Comte, because he classifies his sciences according to the relations of thought, while Comte classifies according to the dependence of phenomena. Mr. Dove was accused, by some English review, shortly after the publication of his "Theory," of having adopted his system from that of the great French philosopher; but in a pamphlet which he wrote in reply to the critique, he showed that there were essential distinctions between the two schemes; while he stated that up to the time of writing his book, he was entirely ignorant of the works of his contemporary. It was certainly remarkable that two thinkers, wholly unknown to each other, should have fallen into such similar trains of thought; but Mr. Dove's explanation was so satisfactory as to acquit him at once in the minds of all candid or discerning men from the charge of having surreptitiously appropriated the labors of others.

The "Elements of Political Science," is the application to politics of the philosophy of the theory. The object-noun of politics, according to that, is the idea of justice, and the whole and exclusive function of the state is the establishment of justice among all men. The legislator, as such, has nothing to do with benevolence, or utility, or any other object, but justice. Other objects may fall legitimately within the sphere of other sciences, but the science of politics deals alone with equity or social justice. This statement is not new, especially in this country. where a large class of political thinkers have always made the chief function of the state to consist in the impartial administration of equal laws, but the deduction of the truth in the mode in which it is accomplished by Mr. Dove, and the illustrations by which it is enforced, are both new, and form a genuine and valuable contribution to political literature. Indeed, the work is so important in many aspects, that we

hope to make it the subject of a careful consideration hereafter. In the mean time we content ourselves with a wish that it may be speedily republished in this country.

-Among the posthumous works of the late Sir THOMAS NOON TALFOURD, was a Supplement to Vacation Rambles," a book giving an account of one of the learned jurist's journeys on the continent. In style and character it resembles the original which it completes. It exhibits the author in his best light, as an accomplished scholar and graceful writer, fond of relics, the gentler arts, nice in taste, poetic in sentiment, but never passionate or vehement either in his likings or dislikings. He describes with accuracy and judgment, in a kind of sober enthusiasm which has enough of admiration in it to kindle the sympathy of the reader, but not enough to make an indelible impression on the memory. It is in vain that one looks for raptures in him, and yet his observations and fancies are always genial and agreeable. We have marked several passages in the book for extract, but must confine ourselves to a single one, an episode suggested by the name of Sir William Follett, an old companion at the bar, as he read it in the travellers' book at a hotel in Naples. It is a brief but striking commentary on the life of a brilliant and successful lawyer. He says:

"Before me lay an expiring relic-for the writer was stricken mortally when he traced it-of a life of the most earnest endeavors, and the most brilliant successes a life loved, prized, cherished, honored, beyond the common lot even of distinguished menthe life of an advocate who had achieved, with triumphant esse, the foremost place in a profession, which in its exercise involves intimate participation with the interests, hopes, fears, passions, affections, and vicissitudes of many lives; the life of a politician admired by the first assembly of freemen in the world, idolized by partisans, respected by opponents, esteemed by the best, consulted by the wisest, whose declining health was the subject of solicitude to his sovereign-quenched in its prime by too prodigal a use of its energies; and what remains? A name dear to the affections of a few friends; the waning image of a modest and earnest speaker; and the splendid example of success embodied in a fortune of 200,000%., acquired in ten years by the labors which hastened its extinction-are all this world possesses of Sir William Follett. The poet's anticipation, Non omnis moriar,' so far as it indicates earthly duration, has no place in the surviving vestiges of his career. To mankind, to his country, to his profession, he has left nothing; not a measure conceived, not a danger averted, not a principle vindicated; not a speech intrinsically worthy of preservation; not a striking image, not an affecting sentiment; in his death the power of mortality is supreme. How strange-how sadly strange-that a course so splendid should end in darkness so obscure!"

The same lament is applicable to every

intellectual career, which is not connected with literature; for books are the only amber in which the precious thoughts of genius can be preserved.

-One of the many evils of the existing attempt at war,-for thus far it is little more than attempt,-is the multitude of books that are printed about Russia and Turkey. We have before us a list of some twenty or thirty volumes on these subjects, without mentioning pamphlets, issued within the last two months. Some are personal memoirs, others compilations from older books, and others mere political catchpennies. A few, however, throw light upon the structure of the semi-barbarous societies of both nations, and by skimming them one gets occasionally a good thing or two. In Dr. LEE'S "Last Days of Alexander and First Days of Nicholas," we find this anecdote told in illustration of the universal corruption which prevails in the Russian adminis

tration.

"When the Emperor Alexander was at one of the military colonies a few years ago (in a tour of inspection), he went round visiting every house; and on every table he found a dinner prepared, one of the principal articles of which consisted in a young pig roasted. The Prince Volhonsky suspected there was some trick, and cut off the tail of the pig and put it in his pocket. On entering the next house, the pig was presented, but without the tail: upon which Prince Volhansky said to the emperor, 'I think this an old friend!' The emperor demanded his meaning, when he took out the tail from his pocket and applied it to the part from which it had been removed. The emperor did not relish the jest, and it was supposed this piece of pleasantry led to the prince's disgrace."

It was not uncommon, we have been told, in former days, when the specie in the banks of Wall-street was to be investigated, for boxes of gold to be sent about from bank to bank, à la roasted pig in Russia. The same author asserts that during the reign of Nicholas, he has carried on an uninterrupted war of twentyeight years with the Circassians at an annual loss of 20,000 lives, or of nearly 600,000 lives in all. In the two campaigns against Turkey, 1828-29, some 300,000 perished by sword or pestilence, and in the various campaigns against Persia, Poland, and Hungary, the losses were no less enormous. It seems to cost considerable to maintain order in Europe, if we may judge from these statements!

-Another writer on Russia, IVAN GOLOVIN, of whom we gave a biographical sketch in an early number of the Monthly, a Russian himself by birth.-in his

Nations of Russia and Turkey," gives a bad account of Nicholas, whom he describes as false-hearted, cruel, relentless, and without talent. He says:

"Europe. does not yet know this man. He is thought to have talents, and he has only vices. History will only be puzzled which title to give him'A crowned Don Quixote,' 'A drill-sergeant spoiled," or 'A woman-whipper.' Haynau was only his pupil. We could give the names of women whom Nicholas has caused to be whipped by the police for the crime of Liberalism; and so true is it, that at St. Petersburg any body can tell you how these affairs are managed. In fact, the Russians are so broken into despotism, that they look on it as quite natural that women should be punished, and punished by the whip. When Pushkin, the greatest poet of Russia, fell by the hand of an adventurer, and the people were crowding round the house where he lay, Nicholas, in his jealousy, allowed the Frenchman who had killed him in the duel to escape; and, meeting Kryloff, the fabulist, he said to him, 'What a pity that Pushkin is dead.' 'Sire, it is an irreparable loss,' answered the old man. Yes, he gave excellent dinners,' replied the Emperor, who was speaking of Count Mussin Pushkin, who had died at Moscow some months before. What exquisite taste! Lermontoff, another eminent Russian poet, died, and Nicholas exclaimed-'He lived like a dog, and he has died like one!' Ryleïecff was a distinguished lyric poet. Nicholas hanged him! That is his way of treating Russian talent. Polejaïeff was another young poet of Liberal tendencies. Nicholas called him to him and embraced him. Every body believed that he meant to take him into favor. He made him a soldier; and when the poet died, a friend, wishing to find his body, was told to go and look among the boxes which are used as coffins for the common soldiers! Sakoloffsky wrote some spirited verses against the Czar. His judges asked him whether he had not hurled his fiercest invectives against God? Yes,' replied the poet, knowing that God is more merciful than the Czar.' He was thrown into a dungeon, which he never quitted, save as a corpse. Even at this very moment Nicholas is wreaking his vengeance on Bakunin, whom be is pledged to Austria to keep immured in prison. Disgust prevents our continuing the sad list of victims, and we will therefore conclude by mentioning a single fact, to show his mode of treating female poets. Madame Rastoptchin wrote some verses entitled 'The Husband and the Wife.' The husband is Russia, and the wife is Poland, and the poet shows that if they do not love one another, it is for want of a proper understanding. Madame Rastoptchin was exiled to Moscow; the Court goes there, and, at the end of a few months, the Empress meets the exile at Madame Nesselrode's, and invites her to a ball at the palace. As soon as Nicholas sees her, he orders her to quit the palace ! "

We add some other anecdotes of the same Imperial personage from the same volume.

"At the Female Orphan Institution, St. Petersburg, there is the nursery for governesses, placed under the orders of Count Vielhiegourski. One of the young ladies found herself in an interesting condition, and became a mother, without the superintendents being able to indicate precisely which of them it was. The Emperor, furious, proceeded to the place in person. He harangued the young ladies, and declared that, unless the guilty one named herself, he would cause them all to be visited by professional men; and that, if she did, she should be pardoned. No one presented herself, and the Czar left the house, giving himself up to a rage which is difficult to depict. As he passed through the corridor, one of the

students threw herself at his feet, and declared that, to save her companions from an affront, she confessed herself guilty. Nicholas kicked her away with his foot, saying, it was too late.' Is not that a trait worthy of Caligula? * * At Moscow, Nicholas one day visited the hospitals. At the Mariensky Hospital, an invalid old man raised himself in his bed, and said,- Your Majesty, at last, must know how they treat us. The dying generally speak the truth, but Czars do not like to listen to it.'-'Speak, you rascal!' exclaimed Nicholas; 'but if you are unlucky enough to utter a single word that does not prove to be true, I'li have you flogged to death." And there was an expression so Satanic in the look and gestures of the Autocrat, that the old man lost the use of his speech; he became pale, foll back upon bis pallet, and never spoke again."

We suspect from the nature of many of the stories in these books, that they are gotten up with a special reference to the present state of the English market.

—We have just spoken of a work in prose, left by the late Justice Talfourd, but the English journals contain also extracts from a drama found among his papers. It is a historical tragedy in five acts, called the CASTILIAN, and founded upon the revolt of the Commons of Castile, under Don John de Padilla, against Cardinal Adrian, the regent of Charles the Fifth. As he has drawn Padilla, at the same time an ardent patriot, a devoted royalist, a conservative politician, and a leader of rebels, he has had great difficulties in reconciling such seemingly opposite traits of character, but the motive of his rebellion is derived from certain personal outrages which he had received, and the indignation consequent thereon, artfully inflamed by his wife. The several personages are discriminated with great truth and fidelity, as the plot is unfolded, with considerable narrative skill, but the play is scarcely adapted to the stage, and awakens no vivid interest in the reading. Talfourd, though somewhat of a poet, was not a dramatist, and such of his plays as have reached a moderate degree of success, owe it to the delicacy and beauty of the language and the knowledge of stage business which they display, rather than their dramatic merits. He wants vigor and boldness, while he refines too much, both in words and sentiment, to produce vivid impressions on a miscellaneous audience. Single lines and particular passages of his plays will be remembered, but as a whole, they cannot attain a permanent fame.

-A work which is receiving no little attention just now from the English Reviews, is DR. WAAGEN'S "TREASURES OF ART IN GREAT BRITAIN," the most complete account of the art galleries of that country that has appeared. It not only

gives a full history of Art in Great Britain, but intelligent and discriminating criticisms of all the leading pictures, with judicious characterizations of the prominent modern British artists. The author is a learned German, well known by his previous writings on Art, who spent many months in England, visiting collection after collection, with a view to an accurate description of the whole. All the great houses which contain galleries of pictures, engravings, or statuary, appear to have been freely opened to him, and he made excellent use of his opportunities. In no country in the world, hardly excepting Italy, are there more fine pictures than in England; but unlike those of Italy, they are not easily accessible to the public. Belonging to private gentlemen, they are shut up in their town or country mansions, and it is only on particular days, or by the intervention of friends, that the stranger is permitted to catch a glimpse of them. On the continent it is different, for nearly every gallery there is as open as it could be, if it were a common possession of the people. All that you have to do is to present yourself at the door, between sunrise and sunset, to gain admission, and you may remain as long as you please, or come as often as you please, during these hours. The continental galleries are, therefore, better known than those of England; but few of them, except the world-famous collections at Rome, Florence, Venice, Dresden, and Madrid, are superior in the extent or wealth of their contents, to those of Devonshire House, Chatsworth, Apsley House, Mr. Rogers's, the British Museum, &c. We should like to extract some of Dr. Waagen's remarks on the present state of Art in Great Britain, but the following estimate of Turner, whose merits are so variously appreciated, must suffice:

"Of all the English painters at the period of my visit to England, I knew the least of Turner, having seen very few of his works, and those almost entirely of his later time. In my two last visits, 1850 and 1851, I endeavored to repair this omission, and, having succeeded in examining a number of his pictures and drawings of the most various periods, I feel myself qualified to give my deliberate opinion upon them. It appears to me that Turner was a man of marvellous genius, occupying some such place among the English landscape-painters of our day as Lord Byron among the modern English poets. In point of fact, Lo landscape-painter has yet appeared with such versatility of talent. His historical landscapes exhibit the most exquisite feeling for beauty of lines and effect of lighting: at the same time he has the power of making them express the most varied moods of nature-a lofty grandeur, a deep and gloomy melancholy, a sunny cheerfulness and peace, or an uproar of all the elements Buildings he also treats with peculiar felicity; while the sea, in its most va

ried aspect, is equally subservient to his magic brush. His views of certain cities and localities inspire the spectator with poetic feelings, such as no other painter ever excited in the same degree, and which is chiefly attributable to the exceeding picturesqueness of the point of view chosen, and to the beauty of the lighting. Finally, he treats the most common little subjects, such as a group of trees, a meadow, a shaded stream, with such art as to impart to them the most picturesque charm. I should, therefore, not hesitate to recognize Turner as the greatest landscape-painter of all times, but for his deficiency in one indispensable element in every perfect work of art, namely, a sound technical basis. It is true that the pictures and drawings of his earlier and middle period overflow with an abundance of versatile and beautiful thoughts, rendered with great truth of nature; but st the same time his historical landscapes never possess the delicacy of gradation and the magical atmosphere of Claude, nor his realistic works the juicy transparency and freshness of a Ruysdael; while many of his best pictures have lost their keeping by subsequent darkening, and with it a great portion of their value. In his later time, however, he may be said to have aimed gradually rather at a mere indication than a representation of his thoughts, which in the last twenty years of his life became so superficial and arbitrary that it is sometimes difficult to say what he really did intend. Not that I overlook even in these pictures the frequent extraordinary beauty of composition and lighting, which render them what I should rather call beautiful souls of pictures. The raptures, therefore, of many of Turner's countrymen, who prefer these pictures to those of his early period, I am not able to share, but must adhere to the sober conviction that a work of art, executed in this material world of ours, must, in order to be quite satisfactory, have a complete and natural body, as well as a beautiful soul."

-Among the books just issued, or announced in England, we may note the following: Mrs. Jameson's CommonPlace Book," the third volume of Lord John Russell's "Memorials and Correspondence of Charles James Fox;" and also the eighth volume of "Moore's Memoirs," by the same editor;-a volume of original letters by James Boswell, Dr. Johnson's toady-a life of Amelia Opie, from her own diaries, by Mrs. Brightwell, the "Institutes of Metaphysics, or the theory of Knowing and Being," by Professor Ferrier,-the third volume of Sir A. Alison's "History of Europe," the American at Home," by Judge Haliburton,-besides new novels by Mrs. Marsh, Miss Jewsbury, Mrs. Trollope, and the author of Margaret Maitland.

י

-The "Working Women of the last Half-Century," by Mrs. CLARA LUCAS BALFOUR, is an attempt to make known to posterity the virtues of Mrs. Hannah More, Mrs. Barbauld, Elizabeth Smith, Charlotte Elizabeth, Mrs. Sherman, Mrs. Mary Duncan, Mrs. Judson, Sarah Martin, and Hannah Kilham.

-BULWER is said to be writing a novel in which the spirit-rappings are to form a

part of the machinery, and in order to be accurate in his use of the new element he is studying the subject carefully, and by personal examination.

-A History of England in Rhyme is not a novelty in its design, for there have been a great many attempts to describe the events from "the Conquest to the Restoration" in verse; but it is somewhat new in its execution, as our readers will observe by the subjoined specimen. King Henry had, As it appears, With Cath'rine liv'd For eighteen years.

*

A Queen she was
Of modest mind,
Whose temper was
Most sweet and kind.

The King, howe'er,
At court had seen
A beauty, nam'd
Anna Boleyn,

And had for her
Such fancy ta'en,
On Cath'rine he'd
Not look again.

But Anna he
Would have for wife,
Howe'er it might
Occasion strife.

While thoughts like these
Torment his brain,
Their utterance
He can't restrain.
"Ah, Kate, of you
"I don't complain:
"But that sweet girl
"I must obtain.

"My wish, indeed,
"I must fulfil,
"For wed that girl
"I must and will."

Think of a hundred pages of such stuff, meant for "the Hope of England, of three years and downwards."

-Dr. SOLGER, whose lectures on Europe gave pleasure to select and intelligent audiences in this city, has recently put forth a work called "The StatesSystem of Europe," an exposition of modern functionaryism and diplomacy, in which Lord Palmerston is treated as the head Satan, and the whole plan of ruling the many by mystification and fraud is detailed. Dr. Solger writes with vigor, and from an intimate acquaintance with modern history. He is a Russian refugee, and of course, liberal in his political sentiments.

"Phemie Millar," by the author of the Kinnears, is just now the leading story with the British booksellers. It is a narrative of Scottish life in a small fishing town of Fifeshire, and is told with much humor and a deep insight into character.