LITERATURE.

AMERICAN.-Is the taste for metaphysical studies on the increase in the United States, or is it simply accidental, that three new works on Intellectual Philosophy make their appearance on nearly the same day? President MAHAN, of Cleveland College, President WAYLAND, of Brown University, and Dr. HICKOCK, of Union College, have all favored us with their views of the "Science of the Mind," within a few weeks. Mahan's book is the most thorough of the three, treating of the entire phenomena of mind, empirical and rational; while Dr. Hickock's is confined to the empirical branch, and Dr. Wayland's gives only elementary views. The latter makes the least pretension to originality and depth, and the former the most; but Dr. Hickock is superior to either in real elevation and consistency of thought. President Wayland adopts, for the most part, the peculiar tenets of the Scottish school of metaphysicians; Dr. Hickock, those mainly of the Kantians; and Mahan combines the two into a kind conscinian eclecticism. It is thus curious to see three of the most distinguished teachers, in three of our leading seminaries, coming to quite different conclusions in respect to the principles of what they still call "a science."

President Mahan divides the intellectual faculties into primary and secondary-the primary being sense, consciousness, and reason, whose functions are intuitional; and the secondary being the understanding, judgment, association, memory, imagination, &c. President Wayland divides them into the perceptive faculties, consciousness, original suggestion, abstraction, memory, reasoning, imagination, and taste. Hickock has still another arrangement, which is that of sense, understanding, and reason. There is here a considerable difference of classification, but it is increased when they come to speak of the functions assigned to these supposed faculties.

Dr.

The great stumbling-blocks of all the metaphysicians are those conceptions which are sometimes called necessary ideas, such as the thought of space, time, cause, substance, infinity, &c., &c. They are greatly more puzzled as to how

these get into the mind than George the Third was as to how the apples got into the dumplings. Some suppose space and time, for instance, to be mere conditions of the sensibility, mere forms which are necessary to render the perception of the external world possible; others regard them as laws of the understanding, or, in other words, as necessary categories of the notion-forming power; while others, again, speak of them as conceptions of the reason. Dr. Wayland adopts a new name entirely for the faculty in which they originate, calling it "original suggestion," which is a good name for his thought, if not for the assumed faculty. The idea of time and space is thus put through a series of transformations from nothing at all up to an absolute, eternal, and necessary existence; and a skilful analyser may prove one view of it just as well as another. In fact, this is true of nearly all the controversies of the metaphysicians, that you can successfully demonstrate and refute all sides alike, while it makes very little difference to any practical interest, whether the one or the other is held. They resemble the disputes of the schoolmen as to what number of angels could dance upon the point of a needle, and, whether determined upon this side or that, are equally interesting and important. It may be an object of consequence to determine whether a ghost sees out of his eyes or without eyes, but the great majority of men do not care the snap of a finger whether it does or not.

The truth is, that the greater part of these metaphysical speculations are utterly empty and worthless abstractions, and have no other effect than to waste the interest of those who are engaged in them, and delay the advent of true science. They are an attempt on the part of men to breathe in vacuo-to subsist and move about in a space where there is nothing to subsist upon-and the sooner, then, they are drummed out of the domain of study, the better for the world. As it is impossible for man to conceive of any object, except as subsisting in some form, the sooner these schemes of pure thought, and these researches into things in themselves aro banished, the sooner we shall get relieved of the chimeras and gorgons of the void inane.

We have no time now to show the groundless nature of metaphysics, as it is commonly presented; but at our leisure, we hope to demonstrate in the pages of the Monthly, what we have here asserted ex cathedra.

-Mr. Spooner's book on Organic Christianity, is scarcely well named, for it does not proceed upon the idea of an organized Christianity, as upon that of a democratic, or congregational Christianity. Now, democracy in the Church, like democracy in the State, is rather the absence of organization than its presence. We do not say that it is not better than any organization which has yet been devised, but only that it is not a 'constructive or unifying principle in itself, whatever other advantages it may possess. A truly organic Christianity would be one in which the Christian idea should be thoroughly embodied in all the relations of society-and will, doubtless, in the course of time be attained - but a provisional arrangement as to the separate power and functions of the laity and the priesthood, or as to the terins on which independent members of a church come together for purposes of prayer or propagandism, can not be called an organic relation. It is a convenient temporary form, but not a deep coherent unity, proceeding from an indwelling formative law, as we see in all real organizations. The Apostle speaks of the church as "a body," but we look in vain over the face of the earth for any example of this type in the assemblages of Christians. They are only aggregations such as take place in organic nature, or else they are conglomerations held together partly by inward cohesion, but mainly by external pressure-the despotism of the State or the hierarchy.

But, though misleading in its name, Mr. Spooner's book is not without interest as a history of ecclesiastical establishments. We have noted a few minor errors in his statements of facts, but on the whole, it displays comprehensive and accurate information.

-Phillips, Sampson & Co., of Boston, have recently issued a beautiful edition, in two volumes, of the dramatic works of BEAUMONT and FLETCHER. It is taken from the English edition of Alexander Dyce, which is the best, we believe, extant, and besides the lives of the authors, with a oriticism of their writings, contains ample illustrative notes. In spite of the occasional offences of these old

dramatists against morality and sound taste, we are glad to see their robust English and vigorous conceptions reproduced in these days.

-Among the ripest fruits of Bayard TAYLOR'S travels in the East, is a new volume of poems, which he names, Poems of the Orient, and which are full of the warm, ruddy, imaginative life of the climes of the sun. In a graceful and generous dedicatory epistle from Mount Tmolus, addressed to his brother-poet, Stoddard, he explains that his object is not to breathe the air of lost Elysium"Pluck the snowy bells,

Of lotus and Olympian asphodels,"but to find a late content, in nature and her myriad shows

"Better contented with one living rose,
Than all the gods' ambrosia; sternly bent
On wresting from her hand the cup, whence flows
The flavors of her ruddiest life-the change
Of climes and races-the unshackled range
Of all experience-that my song may show,
The warm red blood that beats in hearts of men,
And those who read them in the festering den
Of cities may behold the open sky,
And hear the rhythm of the winds that blow
Instinct with freedom. Blame me not that I
Find in the forms of earth a deeper joy
Than in the dreams which lured me as a boy."

We find accordingly in the Nile, the Jerusalem, the Tyre, &c., &c., fine inspirations drawn from those old eternal objects, but mingled with them also, the wild dreams of the desert, and Arabian sentiment and tradition. The poet transports us on the wings of his imagination to the morning-lands, and we revel with him in the delicious intoxication of its odors and gleams. We are free to say that these poems are the best things that he has done, and will greatly add to his reputation as a poet. As several of them have already appeared in the pages of the Monthly, we forbear to extract any, as we have been strongly tempted to do.

-The Appletons have performed an acceptable service to the admirers of Me. BRYANT's poetry, by presenting it in two small neat volumes, handsomely printed and bound. The previous editions have been for the most part unattractive and cumbersome, and, in some instances, beyond the reach of many readers on account of their price. But in this pleasant edition we have all that the poet has written up to the present time, including the beautiful lyric, the "Conqueror's Grave," which appeared in Putnam's Monthly, a short time since. The exquisite finish, grace, and sweetness of Bryant's poems make them perennials, and everybody will be glad to possess them in a suitable vase or casket. It is

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.

-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.

As

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 op portunities 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 deify 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 volume, 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 recog nize 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 sig-.. nal 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 typo graphy.

-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 obliga-, tions 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 aud 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 melo-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 a word can be spelt-are mere sounds