be sure to make it firm in the soil, and the sand acting as a percolator for moisture, you may keep your slip well watered. You can soon see, by the swelling of the buds and the dropping off of the old leaves, whether the slip is indeed taking root, but do not attempt to remove it to the place where you would wish it permanently to remain, until it has put out several sets of new leaves.

An ingenious way to raise a set of slips has been recommended by Mrs. Loudon, which we have tried with unvarying success. It is to take an earthen-ware flower-pot, gallon-size, and fill it more than half full of broken potsherds, pebbles, bits of slate or such things; now set in the middle, on top of these refuse materials, another similar flower-pot, half-pint size, with the hole at its bottom stopped up tightly with a cork ;-let its mouth

be even with that of the large, outer one;-fill up the interstices with silver sand or other pure sand, and set in a row of slips all around, cut according to the directions given above. Keep the inner pot full of water all the time, but do not water the slips directly. In about six weeks your slips will have fine roots, and can be potted. A hand-glass always hastens the process of rooting, and enables you to take advantage of the sunshine, but if you are not provided with one, be careful to keep your plants in the shade until they show certain signs of independence of life.

Roses need very rich soil to bring them to perfection, thriving best in a mixture of well-rotted manure, sand and garden loam, and to stint them of nourishment is indeed poor economy.

M. S. S.

Huxley's "Crayfish."'*

A MONOGRAPH upon the crayfish would scarcely find place in the International Scientific Series, since this series is addressed to the public at large, rather than to the select scientific few. This volume, however, is not a monograph, but, as its supplementary title denotes, an introduction to the study of zoology. It will therefore prove of special interest only to such students as are both willing and able to follow the author patiently through every step of his progress; the tedious technicalities which invest the discussion of arthrobranchiæ and podobranchiæ, coxopodite and basipodite, however, are constantly relieved by the wide outlook over organic nature afforded from each new point of view.

We have here, in fact, a profound sermon upon evolution, with the crayfish for text. Unlike many of his brethren of the pulpit, Professor Huxley does not use his text as a mere point of departure. The structure, development, mode of life and reproduction, the geological and geographical distribution of the crayfish, and the relation which it sustains to organic nature, are all clearly set forth. The volume might be called an introduction to biology or physiology with almost as much justice as it is to zoology, since every physical fact is viewed in its widest relations. There is no problem involved in the theory of transformism which is not affected, and no cardinal point in human physiology which is not illustrated by the processes of life and death in this simple organism. The crayfish derives its importance, and has won the distinction of a biography in the present volume, not by its own intrinsic interest, but by the place which it occupies in the series of typical forms selected to illustrate the doctrine of evolution.

* The Crayfish. An introduction to the study of Zoology. By T. H. Huxley, F. R. S. New York: D. Appleton & Co.

1880.

The inductive method of scientific study-as old as the first intellectual stirrings of the race, though formulated and fathered by Bacon-has begotten a passion for generalization which pervades all the science of our day. A better illustration of this tendency could scarcely be found than that afforded by this book. The fairy tales of science are no more. Facts have given up their knight-errantry and act only in platoons. And so the outcome of Professor Huxley's study of the crayfish is a flat denial of a personal Creator. Nowhere does he more plainly express his views upon the subject of evolution or transformism than here. After establishing a certain unity of organization to be found throughout the organic world, he says:

"But if this is a just mode of stating these conclusions, then it is undoubtedly conceivable that all plants and all animals have been evolved from a common physical basis of life, by processes similar to those which we see at work in the evolution of individual animals and plants from that foundation. That which is conceivable, however, is by no means necessarily true; and no amount of purely morphological evidence can suffice to prove that the forms of life have come into existence in one way rather than another" (page 286).

After a consideration of the aetiology,—that is, the distribution of these forms with reference to their probable origin, he says:

"It would appear difficult to frame more than two fundamental hypotheses in attempting to solve this problem. Either we must seek the origin of crayfishes in conditions extraneous to the ordinary course of natural operations, by what is commonly termed creation; or we must seek for it in conditions afforded by the usual course of nature, when the hypothesis assumes some shape of the Doctrine of Evolution (page 318).

On page 319, he clinches his argument, if argument it can be called, or, more properly, he blows

scornfully aside with a single puff the obstacles in his way, by this begging of the question:

"However, apart from the philosophical worthlessness of the hypothesis of creation, it would be a waste of time to discuss a view which no one upholds," etc., etc.

It is somewhat remarkable that a man so keen and clear-headed as Professor Huxley can think to settle the origin of all things by merely pushing the difficulty of transformation from the non-living elements to living organisms back a few millions of years. A miracle differs from ordinary phenomena, not in degree, but in kind. Granted a force able to transform one atom of inorganic matter into a living germ, and we have a God capable of creating a universe. With all his brilliancy of intellect and power of logical thought, Professor Huxley can believe that somehow, in some infinite distance of time, by a fortuitous combination of force and matter, some fragment of inorganic matter became endued with life, which was, by the action of blind force, developed into the well-ordered system of the organic world, and yet he scoffs at the absurdity of the belief that Will, the one uncorrelated force of which we know, should have anything to do with that or any other transformation. Truly, the faith that science demands puts to shame the faith of religion.

Professor Huxley has not lost, even in the mazes of this dry and technical subject, the happy faculty of saying things graphically, and even at times with a flash of poetical feeling, or a gleam of humor. This treatment makes of the book-by the aid of judicious skipping-pleasant reading for the uninitiated.

Hosmer's "Short History of German Literature."*

THIS is an entertaining and yet, in some respects, a disappointing book. It betrays considerable scholarship, without yet being scholarly. The author appears to have read a vast deal about German literature and to have read it intelligently and critically, but the German literature itself, or, at all events, that part of it which precedes the Reformation, he seems to know chiefly from anthologies and literary histories. To be sure, he frankly acknowledges his indebtedness to his German predecessors, and particularly to Kurz and Vilmar, and endeavors, both in his preface and in foot-notes, to render credit where credit is due; but we are inclined to think that the method he has chosen is somewhat imperfect. In some instances he continues, for page after page, his paraphrase of a German authority, taking sufficient liberties with the text to make quotation marks superfluous. and indicating merely where his dependence upon Kurz, Gervinus or Vilmar ceases, but not invariably where it begins.

Again, from a very attentive perusal of Professor Hosmer's work we derive the impression that he

* A Short History of German Literature By Prof. James K. Hosmer. Second edition. St. Louis: G. T. Jones & Co. 1879.

has not had a full appreciation of the gravity of the task which he has undertaken. He interrupts his serious narrative, at odd intervals, with accounts of his personal experiences and adventures during a European pilgrimage, describes his interviews with Hermann Grimm, Leopold von Ranke and Theodore Mommsen, gives free rein to his emotions during a visit to the Cathedral of Speyer, and indulges in semi-historical and semi-sentimental meditations

in Weimar, Nuremberg and other localities associated with the lives of the intellectual heroes of the Fatherland. It is but fair to admit that his experiences are, in most cases, very interesting, and that his meditations give evidence of a sensitive and cultivated mind; but their connection with German literature is not sufficiently apparent to excuse the digression. Even as illustrative incidents they seem out of place, and interfere with the dignity of a serious historical work.

Questions of proportion are notably elastic, and in a book which makes no pretense of exhaustive completeness, it would, perhaps, be safest to accept the author's judgment as final. We are, on the whole, disposed to think that he has rarely erred on the side of prolixity, except when the autobiographical mood attacks him. His sense of the relative importance of the various authors and literary epochs is, as a rule, very accurate. Only in two or three instances are we forced to take issue with him. He dismisses the most ancient literature in a too summary fashion, devoting but five lines to the Heliand (a most profoundly characteristic and interesting work, to which even so short a history as Vilmar's devotes nearly two closely-printed pages) and three lines and a half to Otfried von Weissenburg's "Harmony of the Gospels." Again, the two Silesian schools are disposed of in a dozen lines, and Paul Flemming is mentioned only as a writer of hymns, although the authorities to which Professor Hosmer so frequently refers (Vilmar and Kurz) agree in praising him also as a secular poet of genuine merit. To us he has always been a refreshing, lyrical oasis in the poetic desert of the seventeenth century.

Our space does not permit us to enter into a detailed criticism of each successive chapter. Of the many notes which we have made we will, however, select a few which suggest topics worthy of discussion. On page 341 Professor Hosmer remarks that "Goethe was forced to leave Wetzlar," and on page 369, that “Goethe sees them (Kestner and Charlotte Buff) given to each other, and leaves Wetzlar suffering from his passion." In our opinion, and in that of Grimm (whose account of Goethe's relation to Lotte is well fortified with documents and, moreover, bears an internal evidence of its truthfulness) the above passages convey an utterly erroneous impression. What forced Goethe to leave Wetzlar was his own conscience; or, perhaps, the circumstance that after having discovered Lotte's love for him it would be embarrassing to continue the same free and unrestrained intercourse. Secondly, we should conclude from Professor Hosmer's version of the Wetzlar affair, that Kestner and L

ere

married before their friend departed; but this was not the case. Engaged they were already when he made Lotte's acquaintance. That Frederika Brion served Goethe as a model for Gretchen in "Faust," we know has been frequently asserted, and some of her characteristic traits do re-appear in Faust's beloved; but we think a closer study of Goethe's autobiography reveals the fact (already pointed out by Bayard Taylor) that his more immediate model was his own youthful love Gretchen, who came near bringing him into an unpleasant scrape while he was yet under the parental roof in Frankfort. Again, we submit that the voices which arouse the recollection of his childhood, in "Faust," when he holds the goblet of poison to his lips, are not those of cherubs (page 396), but of holiday mummers who, in the disguise of apostles, angels, etc., chanted the solemn Easter choruses. Such mummers were very common at Christmas and Easter in medieval times, and are yet seen in Germany during the great church festivals. Finally, we would venture a criticism which, finical as it may seem, is yet its own justification; Hans Christian Andersen was not a German, but a Dane.

In spite of these literal defects, Professor Hosmer's "Short History" may be recommended for its many excellences. The style is remarkably chaste and clear, and not needlessly elaborate or overloaded with rhetorical decorations. The author's reading has been varied and extensive and his scholarship is highly creditable, although we have ventured to find fault with his evident preference for critical writings and literary histories, in instances where an acquaintance with the criticised work would have stood him in better stead; but, as we have already remarked, this stricture is only applicable to that portion of his book which relates to the earliest German literature. His mind is apparently as judicial and as free from prejudice as any human mind can be; he is always benevolently disposed toward every author whom he approaches, and examines in a just and fair-minded spirit his claims to greatness. Especially admirable are his chapters on Luther and Lessing, with both of whom he is in perfect sympathy. Without being a heroworshiper he has due respect and reverence for a man of exalted character or exceptional intellectual endowments. This attitude of what one might call sympathetic neutrality, is especially manifested in Professor Hosmer's treatment of two such antagonistic geniuses as Goethe and Heine, to both of whom he endeavors to do full justice.

It is but fair to add that the present work, being of larger compass than Bayard Taylor's "Studies in German Literature," which we noticed a few months ago, is necessarily, when dealing with modern authors, more complete, while in the period preceding Luther, it does not remotely rival it. Nevertheless, it is, every way, a more useful and satisfactory book than Metcalf's fragmentary translation of Vilmar, and is also a considerable advance upon Bostwick and Harrison's "Outlines of German Literature." For all that, it covers but partly a field in which much yet remains to be done.

Mrs. Burnett's "Louisiana."* MRS. BURNETT is always at her best when dealing with strong, primitive natures. Her "cultivated young women, though they need not be lacking in interest, are, as a rule, less strikingly characterized than are those in whom nature is allowed to assert herself, unobstructed by the impediments of culture. Thus the conventional types, to which belong Miss Barholm, in "That Lass o' Lowrie's," Miss Ffrench in "Haworth's" and Miss Ferrol, in the present story, are necessarily at a disadvantage when contrasted with the noble barbarism of Joan Lowrie, the quaintness of Janey Briarley, and the primitive charm of Louisiana. In some of her minor stories, too, such as "Lodusky" and "Esmeralda," Mrs. Burnett has given proof of her deep insight into the workings of minds as yet untouched or only remotely touched by modern civilization. In "Surly Tim," which belongs approximately to the same order, there was a touch of sentimentality which recalled Dickens,-a certain morbid and lachrymose tendency which some of her admirers feared would in time vitiate the wholesome strength and spontaneity characteristic of Mrs. Burnett's best work. "Louisiana," however, dispels all such fear for the author's artistic future, and fortifies the admiration of her genius and character. It is a fresh, wholesome, human novel. In its style there is an unstudied simplicity which impresses one almost as improvisation. The situations are all well conceived and possess, in some instances, a pathos which goes directly to the heart. Thus, in the scene where Lawrence and his sister pay their involuntary visit to Louisiana's home and unwittingly make themselves merry at the expense of her father, there is a rapid succession of situations all of which are profoundly moving. The old farmer's discourse on novels (the scenes of which are laid in Bagdad) is especially happy.

We might mention many other scenes in which Mrs. Burnett utilizes apparently slight motives with admirable effect. Thus, we are readily reconciled to her apotheosis of millinery in the first half of the story, and would not challenge the contempt of any of her female admirers by questioning the possibility of the transformation which Louisiana undergoes after having been arrayed by Miss Ferrol in her wonderful Parisian dresses. The weak point in the book-though one which is hardly felt in the reader's absorption in Louisiana herself-is the vagueness of Miss Ferrol's and her brother's personality. These are subordinate elements, no doubt, and we fail to find any vigorous attempt at characterization in either of them, while the portraits of Louisiana and Mr. Rogers abound in touches which are inimitable. As a whole, the story is dramatic and impressive, and the reader is sorry that it comes to an end so soon.

Louisiana. By Frances Hodgson Burnett, author of "That Lass o' Lowrie's," "6 Haworth's," etc. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons. 1880.

James's "Confidence." *

It must always remain a matter of wonder to those who admire Mr. James most sincerely, that, being so great as he is, he is no greater; that with all the artistic perfection of his style, the keenness of his observation and the strength and brilliancy of his thought, he has yet so little real depth of insight. Would any one, for instance, venture to assert that Mr. James's writings display an adequate conception of what love is? In "Confidence," the cardinal passion manifests itself chiefly as a vague unrest which has the power of propelling its victim an indefinite number of times and in either direction across the Atlantic Ocean. It causes young ladies to behave in an enigmatical fashion (which of course is perfectly proper), and up to the moment of the happy consummation makes everybody mildly and discreetly miserable. However, this is undeniably the form in which love most frequently asserts itself in the over-civilized "international" society with which Mr. James's books are concerned; it is a gentle and easily manageable emotion, not a passion with a spark of Plutonian fire in it.

Within these limitations, "Confidence" is an entertaining and skillfully constructed novel. Close up to the line of real emotion, we see the whole inner life and character of Mr. James's men and women. We see, too, the influence that their emotion exerts on their conduct, but not the real emotion itself. For all that, the reader who can supply the missing links and rewrite the love passages for himself, can only admire the whole outgrowth of the conditions. Judged by itself, each character is a skillful study, and is accepted into the circle of our literary acquaintance to a degree not usual even with those which have stirred us more. The absurdly conscientious Gordon Wright, with his interminable letter-writing; the chattering little coquette Blanche Evers and her redoubtable English adorer Captain Lovelock, are all so originally and so piquantly portrayed as almost to impress us as new creations. And yet Captain Lovelock is quite a common type in the English novel of the day, and Blanche Evers, in her deliciously inane chatter, reminds us constantly of Daisy Miller, of whom she is an improved and further elaborated edition. Mrs. Vivian, the "perverted Puritan," is also very vividly conceived, and the mixture of timid worldliness and minute conscientiousness in her character has a quaint, serio-comic effect. Angela is so needlessly enigmatical that we doubt if Mr. James himself understands her; but this does not deprive her of attractiveness and fascination. Bernard Longueville, the nominal hero, is a slightly modified repetition of the author's favorite type. Apart from his very clever talk and his cosmopolitan tendency to roam the world over at a moment's notice, he is in no wise remarkable, and we are inclined to think that he was blessed beyond his deserts

* Confidence. By Henry James, Jr., author of "The American," ""The Europeans," etc. Boston: Houghton, Osgood & Co. 1880.

in gaining Angela. The plot, as usual with Mr. James, is conspicuous chiefly for its simplicity, but contains, nevertheless, a series of delightful surprises dexterously managed. Especially masterly is Angela's successful stratagem for restoring the disaffected Gordon to his innocent flirt of a wife.

Matthews's "Theaters of Paris."'*

IN any work which partakes of the nature of a hand-book, whether in outward form or in inward and spiritual essence, we look for three points of excellence—accuracy, agreeable style, and a judicious and effective presentation of the subject matter. Mr. Matthews's volume on "The Theaters of Paris," stands well this three-fold test. In form it is a collection of smoothly written essays, almost gossipy, at times, in tone, which sketch the history and characteristics of the famous play-houses of the French capital in such a way that the reader quite unconsciously absorbs much correct, specific and well-chosen information. Thus the book fulfills

its primary object in suiting the needs and tastes of the general public. To the student of the drama and the lover of the stage it must have a special value, for the popular form in which its theme is treated does not lessen its more serious merits. The scheme of the book is comprehensive; it pictures persons as well as places, and ranges at will over the long space between Molière's earliest and Sardou's latest play. A rather disproportionate amount of space is devoted to "The Musical Theaters of Paris," the record whereof is notable for its barren frivolity; for the Opera was an outgrowth of the nation's social, not of her intellectual, development; it has never been a vital factor in civilization, nor anything more than a luxury of super-refinement. An index would add to the usefulness of "The Theaters of Paris," and it is to be observed that the author's punctilious care in translating the names of books and plays is likely to confuse the reader who is unacquainted with the original French; but the minor details of the book leave as little to be desired as does the excellent taste shown in its material dress and make-up.

Recent Books of Travel.

ONE of the most attractive books for young folks brought out during the season just now closing, is Col. Knox's capital story of the travels of two boys in the far East. China and Japan engage the attention of the youthful travelers, who, guided by a friendly physician, explore precisely those parts of the world which most boys delight to read about. The little caravan starts from New York, across the continent, and so, ever traveling with the sun, visits the principal cities of the two great Asiatic empires. The doctor is guide, philosopher, and friend. He furnishes to the wide-awake youngsters the informa

tion which is naturally to be brought to the surface by other means than that of the personal observation of the boy travelers; and very entertainingly does he perform his part of the work. As the author is an old traveler, his pictures of manners, customs, and scenes in the east are charged with local color. The reader must needs be carried along with the tourists, and be interested at every step. The work is profusely and handsomely illustrated, and is bound in the most sumptuous manner. The boy who is not attracted and held to a careful reading of this book must be an abnormal development of boydom.

Another admirable story of travel is Mrs. Brassey's second book, in which she gives an account of the voyage of the Sunbeam to the eastern extremity of the Mediterranean, from England.* The course of the voyagers lay through scenery which has already been made familiar to readers of books of travel. But, although the author has followed closely on the track of countless tourists, she has not re-written an old book. Her account of things seen and heard is as fresh as if she were the first to write of the regions visited. The voyage extended as far east as the Isle of Cyprus, and southward to Malta and the coast of Algeria. The party enjoyed the very luxury of traveling, and, in addition to the usual personal adventures of tourists, they met with a variety of accidents and incidents which were peculiar to what might be called a private nautical expedition. The author's style is vivacious, and, although one may be sometimes impatient with the pettiness of detail which is intruded, this does not materially detract from the value of the work.

It

The title of Miss Bird's book, "A Lady's life in the Rocky Mountains," is somewhat misleading. is a very small part of a life which is described in these sprightly pages. Beginning at San Francisco in September, the writer finishes her life in the Rocky Mountains early in the following December. She is charmed by all she sees, and a truly feminine sentiment pervades the whole work. It should be remembered, however, that the book has grown out of a series of private letters to a sister of the author's living in England. This should account for the familiar style adopted, as well as for what may seem to some its needless minuteness of detail, but the enthusiasm of the lady is contagious, and she has made a really enjoyable book.

Two modest and unpretending books of travel, just published by Dodd, Mead & Co., are renewed proof of the services which Christian missionaries have rendered to geography and ethnology. Rev. Titus Coan is well known as a missionary to the Sandwich Islands. But while he was yet a young man, and before he had embarked in the enterprise which has made his name famous in the annals of missionary adventures and labor, he spent two or three months among the savages of Patagonia.

In company with one other devoted man, he was left on the inhospitable coast of Patagonia, near the Straits of Magellan, while the vessel which had brought them from the United States pursued her way into the Pacific. During the time these two brave men were on the land, they were the guests of the natives, traveling with them from point to point, sharing in their privations, and enduring numberless discomforts. For the most part, however, the strangers were well treated, and the entertaining narrative of their sojourn among the Patagonians gives us a vivid and striking picture of the manner of life of a people of whom almost nothing is known. The two missionaries labored under the serious disadvantage of not being able to hold any conversation with the Patagonians, and after fairly canvassing the matter they returned home, stopping at the Falkland Islands, of which comparatively unknown land they give us some interesting notes.

The other volume to which we refer is Rev. Dr. Jackson's account of the establishment of the Presbyterian mission in Alaska.† Alaska is noted as being a country more frequently reported upon than any of which we have account. Dr. Jackson draws freely from the various sources, official and unofficial, which are now accessible to him who would know aught of Alaska, its people, resources and history. The author, who takes a rosy and Sewardian view of our often-described purchase, occupies the first half of his book with extracts from the reports. The rest of the work is taken up with a series of letters from the missionaries and their helpers, dove-tailed together by a running commentary from the pen of the author and editor. The result is a tolerably interesting book, whose chief value consists in its skillful condensation of information previously collected by other explorers. The work is copiously illustrated by some particularly bad wood-cuts.

The Art Season.

NEW YORK has had a winter full of surprises in art matters, but not always, to judge from the tenor of the daily press, of agreeable surprises. Perhaps never before have so many unfavorable criticisms been made upon American art as during the season of 1879-80. The minor exhibitions, such as those by the Salmagundi Club and the Water-Color Society, have received grudging praise, while the Academy Exhibition and that of the Society of American Artists have been assailed with vigor. Nor is this only true of the criticisms in the press of New York City. Correspondents of New England journals of weight, and of the leading papers of St. Louis and Cincinnati, have been even more out-spoken. Yet the criticisms may be broadly divided between those that come from adherents to the Academy work and those that find something to tolerate, if not to admire, in the some

* Adventures in Patagonia; A Missionary's Exploring Trip. By the Rev. Titus Coan; with an introduction by Rev. Henry M. Field, D. D. New York: Dodd, Mead & Co. 1980. Pp.

31 Alaska, and the Missions on the North Pacific coast. By Rev. Sheldon Jackson, D. D. New York; Dodd, Mead & Co. Pp. 327.