said in the preface to this edition, that the poems appear with "some faults of diction and versification corrected,"which implies, what we had supposed impossible. They had always seemed to us so perfect, both in language and structure, that the idea of improving them in any way never entered our heads. We have consequently looked through several with some care to see in what respect they had been altered, but we confess that we have not been able to discover. Indeed we should have been sorry to find anywhere the change of a single line or phrase. They are impressed upon our imaginations and hearts, as they were first printed, and the change of a word, even for the better, as the author himself might deem it, would be as repugnant as a "new reading" of Shakespeare is to the genuine admirers of the immortal master. The newest poem in these volumes is called the "Voice of Autumn," one of those tender, sweet, and subtly imaginative studies of nature, which have placed the author of the "Waterfowl," and the "Death of the Flowers," among the first of his class. As -The memoirs of Napoleon, his Court and Family, by the DUCHESSE D'ABRANTES,—among the best of the numerous accounts which have been given, on the favorable side of the great captain-has been issued in two large handsome volumes by the Appletons. Madame Junot was for many years, on account of the official position of her husband, almost a member of the imperial household, and had the best of opportunities for studying the character of Bonaparte, her book is both authentic and full of interest. She has a quick discernment of character, fondness for gossip, and a lively style, so that her reminiscences combine the vivacity of story-telling with the genuineness of history. She is doubtless too much disposed to magnify the good qualities of her hero, but she does not deity him, as Mr. Abbott is doing, and lets us in to some parts of his conduct which are anything but godlike. These volumes contain portraits of the leading members of the Napoleon Family. -The Parables of the New Testament, by the Rev. WM. BACON STEVENS, is a handsome gift voluine, containing engraved representations of the incidents of the Parables, with a letter-press commentary, written in a plain and practical, but winning style. The author en deavors to draw from the simple stories of the Testament, the deep spiritual wisdom which they contain, and to apply it to the conduct of life. He writes in an earnest religious spirit, more intent upon enforcing obvious truth, than upon the display of his learning or eloquence. The book is beautifully produced by the publishers, E. H. Butler & Co., of Philadelphia. The Elements of Character, is the name of a small essay by MARY G. CHANDLER, in which the importance of a high character, and the value of Christian manner and conversation are unfolded. The thoughts are always good, and sometimes profound, and the sentiments elevated and liberal. It is chiefly addressed to women, but may be read with profit by men as well. -Mr. Calvin Blanchard, of this city, has reprinted MISS MARTINEAU's version of Comte's Philosophy, which we have already referred to in these pages, as one of the most remarkable works of the day. In the sphere of science there is no thinker whose generalizations are more beautiful and consistent than those of Comte, though his scheme, as a whole, can hardly be called a philosophy. It is preparatory to a philsophy, but any system which omits the idea of the Infinite and the unconditioned, must be an empirical science, and not a rational philosophy. At the same time, we recognize in Comte certain views, that are in the highest degree important, and which, consistently carried out, might lead to a nobler conception of the destiny of man, than most of the current theories as to human life. His incidental remarks, on the relations and bearings of the separate sciences, have often a marvellous sagacity and depth in them; and, indeed, all his speculations are extremely valuable to those who are sufficiently accustomed to such studies to detect their very signal errors. Weak heads, however, are liable to be led by him into the Serboniam bogs. Mr. Blanchard has printed the volume in the finest style of typography. -MISS COOPER, whose "Rural Hours" was one of the most thoughtful and agreeable books ever written about the country, worthy of a place by the side of White's "Natural History of Selborne," has laid us under further obligations by a new work called The Rhyme and Reason of Country Life. It is not, like the previous book, a work of original observation and inference; but is, rather, a work of selections, connected together by a mere thread of remark. After a most ably written introduction on the general subject of the influence of a love for the beauties of nature and rural life, a series of the objects and pastimes most common to the country are described in the words of the great writers and poets-woven together, if we may so express it, into a chaplet of pearls and roses. The large reading and fine taste of Miss Cooper are admirably displayed in her choice as well as arrangement of the flowers which go to make up her several bouquets. From Hesiod and Homer, to Longfellow and Lowell, she appears to have left no rare and precious description of her topics unnoticed. It is evident, however, that in her view the "Rhyme" of country life predominates over the "Reason," or, at any rate, that the poets have done an ampler and nicer justice to its varied aspects than the prosers. For one extract from the latter she presents us a dozen from the former,-which is no more than just. Miss Cooper's book is precisely such a book as cultivated persons like to snatch up, for a spare hour, during the long evenings of winter, in the country, or to carry out with them, in the summer time, to the shade of some favorite arbor or tree. It is prettily illustrated, too, from original designs by Döpler, and in its typographical execution does honor to the publisher. -The Knickerbocker Gallery. One of the most graceful testimonials ever paid to a literary laborer is the complimentary volume which has been made up by the various gentlemen who have been contributors to the Knickerbocker Magazine, as a token of kindly appreciation of the editor of that patriarch of the American monthlies, LEWIS GAYLORD CLARK. There are some fifty contributors to this unique volume, and among them are some of the highest names in American literature. Washington Irving heads the list, and a poetical address from Fitz Green Halleck closes the volume. Clustering around these patriachs of the literary family of the New World, are many of the younger brood of our authors, who have already distinguished themselves by their brilliant productions, as well as most of those whose writings are ranked among the classics. The volume is one of the most sumptuous and elegant that has been published here, and its enrichments are some forty portraits, which have been engraved expressly for it; it will be a splendid collection of the heads of our best authors, painted and engraved by our best artists; and, as the profits of the volume are to be invested in a homestead for the benefit of one of the oldest and most popular of our magazine editors, it would be a gratuitous affront to the patriotism and intelligence of our country to doubt that it will have a very extensive sale. What American, with a heart in his bosom, and a glimmer of love for his country, but will desire to be the possessor of such a volume? The publisher of the Knickerbocker Gallery, is Mr. Samuel Hueston. -Gems by the Way-Side is the title of a volume of very well-intentioned "religious and domestic" poetry, by LYDIA BAXTER, just published by Sheldon, Lamport & Blakeman.-What can be said of such publications, but that all poems are, or should be, religious, and that no poetry can be called domestic, until it has been domesticated, as most poetry is sure to be. Mrs. Baxter dedicates her volume, with great propriety, to her husband. -Lily Gordon, the Young Housekeeper, by COUSIN KATE, is a republication by A. D. F. Randolph, of New York. The story is Scotch, and, in spite of the admixture of religion and household affairs, it is very pleasant reading. -The Lost Heiress is the title of Mrs. SOUTHWORTH'S last novel, published by Peterson, of Philadelphia; it is longer than some of her previous productions, but not less entertaining, or natural in the development of the author's design. Mrs. Southworth is a very rapid and fluent writer, but she possesses the peculiarly feminine art of arresting the attention and keeping her reader to her pages, until she dismisses him at the end. scenes are eminently local, and all her scenery home-like and familiar; she costumes her figures admirably, and if she would try to be a little less inelo-dramatic, although the immediate sale of her romances might be diminished, her permanent popularity would be increased. Her -The Westminster Review's notice of Mrs. Stowe's Sunny Memories, concludes with the following little bit of superfluous pathos: "We cannot think, without a touch of sadness, that the lily, the ivy, the daisy, the blue-bell, the primrose, those concrete poems of our childhood-poems that can be seen, and felt, and handled, and understood before & word can be spelt-are mere sounds without meaning to our kinsfolk across the great ocean; and yet the names must be familiar to these from earliest infancy." We shall next see a lament in some of the London papers, over our ignorance of the practical pleasures of breakfast parties, which Mrs. Stowe gives the world to understand are unknown on this side of the Atlantic. Nothing could be more natural than for the English readers of Mrs. Stowe's Sunny Memories to imagine that America was a flowerless land, where lilies, daisies, ivy leaves and holly are unknown, except by name. It will, also, be inferred by the foreign readers of Mrs. Stowe's book, that we are as destitute of pictures and other objects of art, as we are of lilies and daisies. We beg to assure the Westminster Review, that its "touch of sadness" is wholly unnecessary: we have lilies and ivy in abundance, and plenty of "Concrete Poems" by the margins of all our ponds and rivulets. -Lyteria is the title of a dramatic poem, published by Ticknor & Fields of Boston, which we are compelled to omit a more extended notice of this month. Lyteria is in the manner of Talfourd's Ion, and will hardly be ranked below that severely classical production. We dare not hope soon to read a tragedy from an English or an American pen, that will possess the elemental life of the Greek or Elizabethan drama; but we shall regard with satisfaction every new attempt that is made in dramatic composition, though we have yet seen no indications of the genius of our country being favorable to that form of development. We understand that Mr. JOSIAH P. QUINCY, of Boston, is the author of Lyteria. ENGLISH-The British Journals, now that England is at war with Russia, can find nothing good or gentle in Russian civilization; but Lieutenant ROGER, who was taken prisoner in the Tiger, near Odessa, and carried to St. Petersburgh, in his " English Prisoner in Russia," gives the most favorable account of Russian kindness and clemency. only among the officials, who may be supposed to have had a part to play, but on the road, everywhere, among the commonest people, these prisoners were treated with the utmost consideration and good feeling. The manners of the highest classes they found frank, kind, and free, without being condescending; Not while the lower sort often put themselves out of the way to oblige their captured enemies. Of his interview with the very highest persons in the empire, Lieutenant Roger gives this description: first of the Grand Dutchess and Grand Duke Constantine. "I was standing, leaning over a chair and looking out of a window, with my back at the door, when I heard these words, in a pleasing tone and in good English, with a slight foreign accent, 'You are waiting for the Grand Duke, I suppose?' I turned round, and, a little to my confusion, saw three ladies standing close by me. I bowed respectfully to the lady in advance, and replied that I had been directed to meet his Imperial Highness at eight o'clock. The Grand Duchess, for it was no other who now honored me with her conversation, was accompanied by two of her ladies-inwaiting. Her Imperial Highness said she had heard of my having been unwell, and expressed a hope that I was better. I replied that I had only risen from my bed in obedience to the commands of the Grand Duke. Her Imperial Highness then informed me that it was uncertain when the Grand Duke would return; and added, in the most naïf manner, that I might know who was addressing me, 'Even I do not know, and I am his wife!' I again bowed; when she said that she should certainly hear if he was detained, and would let me know she recommended me, in the meanwhile, to wait, saying that she would send me some tea, and the last English newspaper, which had just come to hand. She then retired, with her attendants, by the door at which she had entered. * "Presently a servant entered with the usual tea apparatus,-one tea-pot over another, as already described. I quite enjoyed this refreshing drink, in the thirst which I suffered from the fever; and it was very à propos, as I had to wait till ten o'clock. At this hour I heard a stir among the servants in the ante-room, and concluded that his Imperial Highness had just arrived. looked out of the window, and saw a gentleman in uniform, with a lady coming through the garden, followed at some distance by an officer in an aidede-camp's uniform with another lady on his arin. Presently the Grand Duke entered alone with his aide-de-camp, and, coming up to me, held out his hand to shake hands: he addressed me in * * * I |