sympathy, by seeing the objects of our affection die in the third volume of their existence.

We must also protest against the authoress's fondness for dreams. Her heroes and heroines are always dreaming something extraordinary, and their dreams never fail to come true. But if the reality is so strongly to resemble the anticipatory dream, why not omit the latter altogether, if only for the sake of brevity? We should thus escape a twice-told tale, and Mrs. Gordon's book would come within the ordinary size of a work of fiction, instead of each volume containing from four to five hundred pages—the third one being, moreover, very closely printed. The experience of everyone must be against a faith in dreams, as far as any practical end could be gained through their means. We may occasionally find the events of to-day bear a strong resemblance to the dreams of last night; but, as most of us have the strangest and most varied visions in our sleep, it would be indeed remarkable if subsequent occurrences did not, sometimes, resemble them.

There is a great deal of good purpose, well worked out, in the novel before us. We would especially point out the admirable exposure of the absurdities of which "serious families" are sometimes guilty. Mrs. Gordon is one who thinks correctly and sensibly on religious subjects, and would be very unlikely to sneer or to smile at anything holy or worthy of reverence: but the puritanism of the mother, who, receiving a letter from her sick son, in India, on Sunday morning, will not open it "till service is over," is a fair subject for indignant ridicule. Is this the religion of Christ? Was it ever considered so in England till the days of the Puritans, who, whatever may have been their great and good qualities, certainly strove hard to suppress, in our country, a taste for the beautiful, the joyous, and the innocent?

"Sir Gervase Grey" will find favor with all who appreciate good writing and a skilfully-conducted story.

GOSSIP OF THE MONTH.

BY A MAN ABOUT TOWN.

The rival topics of the month have been "The Crystal Palace" and "The War." Everybody has read descriptions of the opening of the former, which has all one characteristic in common-that of conveying very little idea of the reality. If the reader thinks that I am going to supply the deficiency, by writing a fresh description myself, he is greatly mistaken. I could do it (though he may not believe me), but I am a great deal too indolent. The shilling days have commenced, and have drawn about ten thousand a day-visitors, not pounds sterling-which will scarcely afford a sufficient revenue to the undertaking. The place is exquisite, unique all that is superlative; but, Dieu merci, I have no shares in it.

:

Silistria is not taken. The Russians have raised the siege three of their generals have been wounded, the Turks are again victorious. What have the "allied powers" been doing? Dining and reviewing. England and France have talked bravely-no one can deny it: they have also played at bombarding a half-defended town, on the Black Sea, and have captured some merchantmen in the Baltic. Honor to the brave!

By the way, all the town has been laughing at the "Handbook" gentlemen of the Crystal Palace, stumbling and blundering in their crablike retreat, down the steps, from the presence of Her Majesty. One of them, however, fairly turned round, and stalked away in the ordinary mode of getting down stairs. The Queen stared-some say she flushed and looked indignant; but as Mr. Owen Jones's back was towards her, he could not see, and, therefore, is unable to tell me whether such is the fact. I think Her Majesty was more likely to smile. Scientific gentlemen have not generally been remarkable for courtly graces: like the Russians at Silistria, "they care not who sees their backs."

Samuel Phillips, the Literary Secretary of the Sydenham Palace, is an author of reputation, and reviews for the Times. He wrote that savage critique on Disraeli, which will hardly add to his fame: and then, he is himself of Disraeli's own "race," as his features declare legibly enough.

Talking of literary men, Mr. Slingsby Lawrence (otherwise Mr. Lewes, of the Leader) has written an English version of the beautiful little French piece La joie fait peur, and produced it, at the Lyceum, under the title of "Clouds and Sunshine." I have not seen it; but the clever critic, "H. M.," of Lloyd's Weekly Newspaper, says of it, that "the delicacy of the original has been sadly vulgarised: what was exquisitely refined in the French piece is harshly vulgar in the English version." The Leader, on the other hand, says it is admirably done; and if the editor of the Leader did it, he ought certainly to know.

Everyone who has read the sketches by the "Stranger in Parliament," in the Leader, has been delighted by their point and wit, though there is sometimes too much straining after smartness and cleverness exhibited in them. They are now collected and published with the author's name Mr. Whitty, on the reporting staff of the Daily News.

The Morning Chronicle has changed hands again! That fact, however, is less remarkable than that Mr. Peto should have given £3,000. for it. Pope's exclamation used to be "God mend me!" "It would take him less time to make a new one," observed an urchin, looking at the crazy little carcass of the poet. Would not £3,000. have started a better paper than poor sinking old Chronicle, which has never had a spark of vitality in it since the days when it made Dan O'Connell its idol? We shall see how it succeeds as the " organ of the Evangelical Dissenters."

The proprietors of Theatres and other places of amusement can scarcely be making their fortunes, if I may judge from the empty benches I find in most of them. The Opera, at Covent Garden, certainly fills well; but who would not go to hear Grisi in her farewell season? I believe I could listen to her, with pleasure, anywhere except in the midst of a violent attack of toothache. Drury Lane is also well attended;

but a quarter of an hour's struggle to get up to the free-list pigeon-hole hinted to us "the reason why."

I have undergone a severe penance this month, to oblige a friend-I have been to two concerts. At one of them, I was in some degree rewarded for my self-sacrifice, by listening to a new barytone, a Mr. Allan Irving, from Italy, said to be the son of Dr. Irving, the well-known antiquarian. I can merely give this advice to my friends-whenever you see that gentleman's name in the bills of a concert go and hear him; and afterwards address your letters of gratitude, for this hint, to the care of my friend, the editor of the New Monthly Review.

One of the few places of amusement now patronized, in spite of the war (or in consequence of it), is The Gallery of Illustration, in Regent Street, whither the "Danube and the Black Sea" attract crowds twice a day. The picture of Sebastopol is alone worth the visit and the money. I recommend the King of Portugal, and all my other readers, to go and see it. Mr. J. R. Smith is also successful in drawing large audiences to his "Tour of Europe," in Leicester Square; while the immortal Albert, at the Egyptian Hall, grows stouter and more amusing every day, and would, I verily believe, fill Westminster Abbey with his admirers, if the Dean and Chapter would grant him a lease of it.

Mr. Woodin is a first-rate mimic; nevertheless, the public will be sorry to hear that he talks of taking himself off.

The exhibition of the Royal Academy is considered a very fair one this year; but as three visits have only shown me the topmost range of "Portraits of a Gentleman," over the heads and bonnets (there is not much connexion between the two, I admit,) of crowds of fair ladies, I will not pretend to offer you my opinion, except on one point-that, I am convinced, all the "gentlemen," who exhibit their portraits on these walls, are dressed by Moses and Son.

The Nelson column has received its last embellishment, in the shape of a bronze plate, representing Nelson receiving the sword of the Commander of the San Josef, in the battle off St. Vincent. The metal was this time supplied by Government, so that we may, reasonably, suppose that it is solid, and not hollowed out and filled up with plaster, as on a former occasion.

There appears to be a good chance of the abolition of stamps, for Newspapers, being carried this session; but what will then be the arrangement with the Post-office, for their conveyance, remains to be proved. Apropos of the subject, it seems that paper is becoming alarmingly scarce, and the Times offers a reward of £1000. to anyone who shall invent or discover a cheap substitute for the material now used in its composition.

NOTICES OF NEW BOOKS.

In this section of our publication it is our intention to offer such remarks upon the new works of the day as will enable intending purchasers to form some estimate of their nature and contents. We believe that we may thus afford great assistance to librarians, secretaries of book clubs, and others: not by writing elaborate reviews, but by pointing out the objects and scope of the books referred to, and generally also expressing our opinion as to the manner in which they are executed.

In order to facilitate a reference to these notices we shall class the books comprised in it under different heads, as far as it is possible to do so; while those which are scarcely capable of classification, in any distinct department, will be ranged under the comprehensive title "Miscellaneous."

With due respect for the public anxiety on the absorbing topic of the day, we commence with

THE WAR BOOKS.

The Present State of the Turkish Empire, by Marshal Marmont, translated, with notes, &c., down to the present time, by Colonel Sir Frederic Smith, K.H., is a work of much interest; a second edition of which has lately been published by Harrison, of Pall Mall. The Marshal's record of what he saw in Turkey is honest enough; his remarks on the Turkish army are interesting; while his political sagacity is far from remarkable, for he was convinced of the non-aggressive character of the Czar's policy, and of the inevitable destruction of Turkey by Russia, the very instant she should venture to go to war with her. The Marshal was no prophet; but we commend his book as a narrative, and the translator's notes are judicious and completely in accordance with the popular feeling on the present crisis.

The Ottoman Empire and its Resources, by Edward H. Michelsen (London: Spooner). This is another war book which has reached a second edition, not without deserving it. To those who wish to acquire an accurate statistical knowledge of Turkey it will be invaluable. The Life of Nicholas I., by the same author, is perhaps the best that has been written; moreover it has the great merit of fairness and candour. It includes, as every biography of a public character should, a sketch of the period in which the subject of it has lived.

The Russo-Turkish Campaigns of 1828 and 1829, with a View of the present State of Affairs in the East, by Colonel Chesney (Smith, Elder, and Co.), is extremely well done. It contains better descriptions of most of the scenes of the present war than we have been able to meet with elsewhere, and to military men the more technical sketches of the different fortresses will be very useful.

Records of Travel, in Turkey, Greece, &c., by Captain Adolphus Slade, R.N., (Saunders and Otley) though not a new work will be read with interest, its author being the well-known Admiral now in the Turkish service.

The Nations of Russia and Turkey, and their Destiny, by Ivan Golovin (Trübner and Co.), is the production of a Russian refugee. Undoubtedly it contains much information as to the internal state of Russia; but it is necessarily tinged with the bitterness of personal animosity against the Czar. We mention this as a fact, and not to infer

censure.

Progress of Russia in the West, North, and South, by David Urquhart (Trübner and Co.) Another picture of Russia's power and Russia's growth, with Mr. Urquhart's own views of the present crisis, which are too peculiar to be understood by anyone but himself. We pay him the compliment of supposing that he really does know what he means.

The Russian Shores of the Black Sea in 1852, by Laurence Oliphant (Blackwood and Sons). This book is universally commended. We know of no other which can compare with it, on the subject of which it treats; moreover, its sketches are taken from the originals.

Fowler's History of Turkey is complete, concise, and readable throughout. Can we pay it a higher compliment ?

We have, indeed, selected only such of the "War Books" as we could conscientiously praise. We might have introduced the names of many others for the contrary purpose, but cui bono?

HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY.

There has been a comparative dearth of new books in these departments of literature, since the outbreak of the war. First in importance, of the historical works which have appeared, is Alison's History of Europe, from the Fall of Napoleon to the Accession of Louis Napoleon, the third volume of which has just been issued by Messrs. Blackwood. We shall probably review this work at length, on a future occasion.

A cabinet edition of Hume's History of England, with the continuations of Smollett and Hughes, is appearing in monthly volumes, with the imprimatur of George Bell, of Fleet Street.

Voltaire and his Times, by L. F. Bungener (Hamilton, Adams, and Co.), without being remarkable for any great originality of views, is a book which supplies much information, and much food for thought, on a subject little understood in England. Voltaire was the idol of his own day, and is all but forgotten in the present one: he will yet take a place more in accordance with his deserts. Meantime, however, will no one write "The Age of Louis Quinze?" Historians and biographers, aspiring or of established fame, here is a subject worthy of your efforts!

Charles Phillips, Esq., late of the Old Bailey Bar, and now Commissioner in Insolvency, is the avowed author of a work called Napoleon the Third, originally printed as by a "Man of the World." It is a good defence of Louis Napoleon's career; and distinguished by the usual redundancy of trope and metaphor which mark Irish eloquence in general, and for which Mr. Phillips has always been especially remarkable. But why did not the author publish it with his own name, when the subject of it was being unceasingly attacked by the malignant and ill-informed portion of the press? Why wait till Louis Napoleon had become popular? There was little chivalry in this course, Mr. Phillips-but you chose your own pseudonym well: you were simply a man of the world."

A very interesting Life of John de Wycliffe, D.D., by Dr. Vaughan, has been published by Messrs. Seeleys. Wycliffe, be it remembered, was not only one of the earliest reformers of the church, but was also the first who translated the whole of the Scriptures into English.

Miss Agnes Strickland's Lives of the Queens of Scotland (Blackwood and Sons) has reached the fifth volume. No one surpasses Miss Strickland in feminine biography, and her present subject is worthy of her talents.