HERR FLEISCHMANN

"I oft have thought the watchful eye of GodUpon this place ne'er rested; or that hellHad raised so black a smoke of densest sinThat the All-Beautiful, appalled, shrunk backFrom its fierce ugliness. I tell you, friend,When the great treason, which shall surely comeTo burst in shards law-bound society,Gives the first shudder, ere it grinds to dustThrones, ranks, and fortunes, and most cunning law—When the great temple of our social stateStaggers and throbs, and totters back to chaos—Let men look here, here in this fiery massOf aged crime and primal ignorance,For the hot heart of all the mystery!—Here, on this howling sea, let fall the scourge,Or pour the oil of mercy!Rochford.Pour the oil—In God's name, pour the blessed oil! The scourge,Bloody and fierce, has fallen for ages pastUpon the foreward crests within its reach;Yet made no more impression on the massThan Persia's whips upon the Hellespont!"

Rochford.Pour the oil—In God's name, pour the blessed oil! The scourge,Bloody and fierce, has fallen for ages pastUpon the foreward crests within its reach;Yet made no more impression on the massThan Persia's whips upon the Hellespont!"

Wyatt's soliloquy on beholding Queen Anne led forth to execution is full of a rare and subtle beauty, both of thought and expression:

"O Anne, Anne!The world may banish all regard for thee,Mewing thy fame in frigid chronicles,But every memory that haunts my mindShall cluster round thee still.I'll hide thy nameUnder the coverture of even lines,I'll hint it darkly in familiar songs,I'll mix each melancholy thought of theeThrough all my numbers:so that heedless menShall hold my love for thee within their hearts,Not knowing of the treasure."

The last scene, preceding the death of Anne Boleyn, is simple and almost homely in its entire want of poetic imagery; yet nothing could be more profoundly touching, and—in the highest sense of the word—tragic. The same tears which blur for us the lines of Browning'sBlot on the 'Scutcheon, and the last words of Shelley'sBeatrice Cenci, suffuse our eyes at this parting address of Anne Boleyn to her maidens, beside her on the scaffold:

"And ye, my damsels,Who whilst I lived did ever show yourselvesSo diligent in service, and are nowTo be here present in my latest hourOf mortal agony—as in good timesYe were most trustworthy, even so in this,My miserable death, ye leave me not.As a poor recompense for your rich love,I pray you to take comfort for my loss—And yet forget me not. To the king's grace,And to the happier one whom you may serveIn place of me, be faithful as to me.Learn from this scene, the triumph of my fate,To hold your honors far above your lives.When you are praying to the martyred Christ,Remember me who, as my weakness could,Faltered afar behind His shining steps,And died for truth, forgiving all mankind.The Lord have pity on my helpless soul!"

Since the publication ofAnne Boleyn, Mr. Boker has written two plays,The Betrothal, andAll the World a Mask, both of which have been produced on the stage in Philadelphia with the most entire success.Calaynoswas also played for a number of nights, Mr. Murdoch taking the principalpart.The Betrothalwas performed in New-York and Baltimore, with equal success. It is admirably adapted for an acting play. The plot is not tragic, though the closing scenes have a tragic air. The dialogue is more varied than inAnne BoleynorCalaynos—now sparkling and full of point, now pithy, shrewd, and pregnant with worldly wisdom, and now tender, graceful, and poetic.All the World a Maskis a comedy of modern life. We have not seen it represented, and it has not yet been published; yet no one familiar with the fine healthy humor displayed in portions ofCalaynosandThe Betrothalcan doubt the author's ability to sustain himself through a five-act comedy.

In addition to these plays, Mr. Boker has published from time to time, in the literary magazines, lyrics and ballads that would of themselves entitle him to rank among our most worthy poets. It is rare that a dramatic author possesses lyric genius, andvice versa, yet the true lyric inspiration is no less perceptible in Mr. Boker'sSong of the EarthandVision of the Goblet, than the true dramatic faculty in hisAnne Boleyn.

There is a fresh, manly strength in his poetry, which may sometimes jar the melody a little, but never allows his verse to flag. The life which informs it was inhaled in the open air; it is sincere and earnest, and touched with that fine enthusiasm which is the heart's-blood of lyric poetry. Take, for instance, this glorious Bacchic, from theVision of the Goblet:

"Joy! joy! with Bacchus and his satyr train,In triumph throbs our merry Grecian earth;Joy! joy! the golden time has come again,A god shall bless the vine's illustrious birth!Io, io, Bacche!"O breezes, speed across the mellow lands,And breathe his coming to the joyous vine;Let all the vineyards wave their leafy handsUpon the hills to greet this pomp divine!Io, io, Bacche!"O peaceful triumph, victory without tear,Or human cry, or drop of conquered blood!Save dew-beads bright, that on the vine appear,The choral shouts, the trampled grape's red flood!Io, io, Bacche!"Shout, Hellas, shout! the lord of joy is come,Bearing the mortal Lethe in his hands,To wake the wailing lips of Sorrow dumb,To bind sad Memory's eyes with rosy bands:Io, io, Bacche!"

"Joy! joy! with Bacchus and his satyr train,In triumph throbs our merry Grecian earth;Joy! joy! the golden time has come again,A god shall bless the vine's illustrious birth!Io, io, Bacche!

"O breezes, speed across the mellow lands,And breathe his coming to the joyous vine;Let all the vineyards wave their leafy handsUpon the hills to greet this pomp divine!Io, io, Bacche!

"O peaceful triumph, victory without tear,Or human cry, or drop of conquered blood!Save dew-beads bright, that on the vine appear,The choral shouts, the trampled grape's red flood!Io, io, Bacche!

"Shout, Hellas, shout! the lord of joy is come,Bearing the mortal Lethe in his hands,To wake the wailing lips of Sorrow dumb,To bind sad Memory's eyes with rosy bands:Io, io, Bacche!"

In theSong of the Earth, which shows a higher exercise of the poetic faculty than any thing else Mr. Boker has written, he has enriched the language with a new form of versification. Except in this poem, we do not remember ever to have seendactylicblank verse attempted in the English language. The majestic and resonant harmonies of the measure are strikingly adapted to the poet's theme. The concludingChorus of Stars, rebuking the Earth for her pride as the dwelling-place of the human soul, is a splendid effort of the imagination. We know not where to find surpassed the sounding sweep of the rhythm in the final lines:

"Heir of eternity, Mother of Souls,Let not thy knowledge betray thee to folly!Knowledge is proud, self-sufficient, and lone,Trusting, unguided, its steps in the darkness.Thine is the wisdom that mankind may win,Gleaned in the pathway between joy and sorrow;Ours is the wisdom that hallows the childFresh from the touch of his awful Creator,Dropped like a star on thy shadowy realm,Falling in splendor, but falling to darken.Ours is the simple religion of Faith,Trusting alone in the God who o'errules us;Thine are the complex misgivings of Doubt,Wrested to form by imperious Reason.Knowledge is restless, imperfect, and sad;Faith is serene, and completed, and joyful.Bow in humility, bow thy proud forehead,Circle thy form with a mantle of clouds,Hide from the glittering cohorts of evening,Wheeling in purity, singing in chorus:Howl in the depths of thy lone, barren mountains,Restlessly moan on the deserts of ocean,Wail o'er thy fall in the desolate forests,Lost star of Paradise, straying alone!"

In the flush of youth, fortunate in all the relations of life, and with a fame already secured, there is perhaps no American author to whom the future promises more than to Mr. Boker. He has that faithful reverence for his art which makes harmless the breath of praise, more dangerous to the poet than that of censure, and there are yet many years before him ere his mind attains its full scope and stature. That all these promises may be fulfilled, to his own honor and that of American literature, is the earnest hope of

Bayard Taylor.

In the careful watch we keep of French, German, and other foreign literatures, for what will instruct or entertain the readers of theInternational, we are always sharp-sighted for any thing said of us or our institutions, whether it be in sympathy or in antipathy. So, for a recent number, we translated from theRevue des Deux Mondesa very clever paper on our American Female Poets, and on other occasions have reviewed or done into English a great many compositions which evinced the feeling of continental Europe in regard to our character and movements. We shall continue in this habit, as there is scarcely any thing ever more amusing than "what the world says" of our concerns, even when it is in the least amiable temper.

Among the most interesting works published of late months in Germany, isFleischmann'sErwerbszweige der Vereinigten Staaten Nord-America's, (or Branches of Industry in the United States.) The reader who anticipates from this title a mere mass of statistics relative to the industrial condition of our own country will find himself agreeably disappointed. Statistics are indeed there—lists of figures and relative annual arrays of products, sufficient to satisfy any one that Mr. Fleischmann has turned the several years during which he was connected with the Patent Office at Washington to good account. But in addition tothis there is a mass of information and observation, which, though nearly connected with the subject, was yet hardly to be expected. It is doubtful whether the social and domestic peculiarities of others or of ourselves be most attractive, but to those who prefer the latter, and who have lived as many do under the impression that our own habits and ways of life present little that is marked or distinctive, this work will be found not only interesting, but even amusing. For among those practising branches of industry, he not only includes blacksmiths, coopers, architects, planters, and pin-makers, but also clergymen, actors, circus-riders, model-artists, midwives, and boarding-house keepers! The main object of the work being to inform his countrymen who propose emigration, of the true state of the most available branches of industry in this country, and prevent on their part undue anticipation or disappointment, even these items cannot be deemed out of place. Cherishing an enthusiastic admiration of our country, and better informed in all probability in the branches of which he treats than any foreigner who has before ventured upon the subject, it is not astonishing that he should have produced a work which not only fully answers the object intended, but in a faithful translation would doubtless be extensively read by our own countrymen.

The reader will find in this book manylittletraits of our domestic life, which, commonplace though they be, are not unattractive when thus reflected back on us, mirror-like, from another land. Take for example the following account of confectioners:

"All men are more or less fond of sweet food and dainties, and the wealthier a people may be, and consequently in more fit condition to add such luxuries to the necessaries of life, the greater will be its consumption of sugar. If we compare the sugar consumption of England with that of Germany, we find the first consumes a far greater quantity per head than the latter."And in this respect the Americans are in no wise behind the English, since they not only at least twice a day drink either tea or coffee, which they abundantly sweeten, enjoying therewith vast quantities of preserved fruits, and every variety of cakes, but they have universally a remarkable appetite for sweets, which from childhood up is nourished with all sorts of confectionery. And this appetite is very generally retained even to an advanced age, so that all thecentsof the children, and many of the dollars of those more advanced in life, go to thecandy-shopsandconfectioneries. Add to this the numerous balls, marriages, and other festive occasions, particularly the parties in private houses, at which pyramids, temples, and other architectural and artistic works, founded on rocks of candied sugar, and bonsbons, are never wanting, we can readily imagine that in this country the confectioner's trade is a flourishing and brilliant business."The Americans are, as is well known, universally a remarkably hospitable people, not only frequently entertaining guests in their homes, but also holding it as an established point ofbon ton, to give one or two parties annually, to whichalltheir friends are invited. The evening is then spent with music and dancing, concluded with an extremely elegant (hochst elegant) supper, at which the gentlemen wisely stick to the more substantial viands and champagne, but where abundance of sugar-work for the ladies is never wanting."And since no family will be surpassed by another, the most incredible extravagance not infrequently results from this unfortunate spirit of rivalry. Confectionery is often brought for a certain party expressly from France, fresh fruits from the West Indies, and the stairways and rooms are adorned with the most exquisite flowers which Europe can yield, while the guests are served on costly porcelain and massive plate. In a word, the greatest imaginable expense is lavished on these festive occasions, which prevail in every class of society, and in none—be their degree what it may—are sugared sweets wanting: the poorer confining themselves, it is true, to such dainties as are the production of the country, excepting indeed a few bottles of champagne, which latter is absolutely indispensable."I have deemed it necessary to touch upon these extravagances of American life, that I might show that while on the one hand an expert confectioner may readily find employment during the season, on the other that mere skill and industry are by no means sufficient of themselves to support an establishment grounded on credit."Nearly all the small shopkeepers, fruit-dealers, and bar-keepers, sell candy and sugar-cakes, which they either prepare themselves or obtain from confectioners who not only carry on a wholesale business,but even send large quantities of their products to the country dealers. In Philadelphia, warm cakes are carried about for sale in the streets,[1]the bearers thereof announcing their presence by the sound of a bell. French confectioners have already done much in this country toward improving the public taste, and excellentbonsbons à la francaiseare now actually manufactured here, though we must admit that in the country there is a great consumption of confectionery and cakes by no means of a very good quality. In these regions a taste for 'horses' (which are of cake greatly resembling gingerbread and made in the form of a horse) universally predominates, and not only children but even adults select these as a favorite dainty. It is no unusual spectacle to behold in the northern states an entire court—judge, jury, and lawyers—regalingthemselves during an important trial on horse-cakes!"

"And in this respect the Americans are in no wise behind the English, since they not only at least twice a day drink either tea or coffee, which they abundantly sweeten, enjoying therewith vast quantities of preserved fruits, and every variety of cakes, but they have universally a remarkable appetite for sweets, which from childhood up is nourished with all sorts of confectionery. And this appetite is very generally retained even to an advanced age, so that all thecentsof the children, and many of the dollars of those more advanced in life, go to thecandy-shopsandconfectioneries. Add to this the numerous balls, marriages, and other festive occasions, particularly the parties in private houses, at which pyramids, temples, and other architectural and artistic works, founded on rocks of candied sugar, and bonsbons, are never wanting, we can readily imagine that in this country the confectioner's trade is a flourishing and brilliant business.

"The Americans are, as is well known, universally a remarkably hospitable people, not only frequently entertaining guests in their homes, but also holding it as an established point ofbon ton, to give one or two parties annually, to whichalltheir friends are invited. The evening is then spent with music and dancing, concluded with an extremely elegant (hochst elegant) supper, at which the gentlemen wisely stick to the more substantial viands and champagne, but where abundance of sugar-work for the ladies is never wanting.

"And since no family will be surpassed by another, the most incredible extravagance not infrequently results from this unfortunate spirit of rivalry. Confectionery is often brought for a certain party expressly from France, fresh fruits from the West Indies, and the stairways and rooms are adorned with the most exquisite flowers which Europe can yield, while the guests are served on costly porcelain and massive plate. In a word, the greatest imaginable expense is lavished on these festive occasions, which prevail in every class of society, and in none—be their degree what it may—are sugared sweets wanting: the poorer confining themselves, it is true, to such dainties as are the production of the country, excepting indeed a few bottles of champagne, which latter is absolutely indispensable.

"I have deemed it necessary to touch upon these extravagances of American life, that I might show that while on the one hand an expert confectioner may readily find employment during the season, on the other that mere skill and industry are by no means sufficient of themselves to support an establishment grounded on credit.

"Nearly all the small shopkeepers, fruit-dealers, and bar-keepers, sell candy and sugar-cakes, which they either prepare themselves or obtain from confectioners who not only carry on a wholesale business,but even send large quantities of their products to the country dealers. In Philadelphia, warm cakes are carried about for sale in the streets,[1]the bearers thereof announcing their presence by the sound of a bell. French confectioners have already done much in this country toward improving the public taste, and excellentbonsbons à la francaiseare now actually manufactured here, though we must admit that in the country there is a great consumption of confectionery and cakes by no means of a very good quality. In these regions a taste for 'horses' (which are of cake greatly resembling gingerbread and made in the form of a horse) universally predominates, and not only children but even adults select these as a favorite dainty. It is no unusual spectacle to behold in the northern states an entire court—judge, jury, and lawyers—regalingthemselves during an important trial on horse-cakes!"

Whether Herr Fleischmann received this legal anecdote on hearsay, or whether his German soul was actually startled by stumbling upon such an extraordinary legal spectacle, we will not here inquire. In Germany the favorite dainty in this line is apretzel, or carnival cake, in the form of a two-headed serpent, which antiquaries declare to be of oriental origin, and to conceal divers horrific mysteries of deeply metaphysical import. From the solemnity of tone with which Herr Fleischmann imparts this horse-cake story, we are half inclined to suspect that he inferred that a great ethical mystery, in some way connected with the administration of justice in America, might thus be conveyed.

Under the head of spirit distilleries our author enters into anaïfand enthusiastic defence of good brandy, but still highly approves of the American custom of substituting coffee for grog in merchant vessels, on which he remarks that it is not allowed to soldiers or sailors to bring spirits into the forts or ships. "But they are so extravagantly fond of liquor as to invent every imaginable method of evading the regulation. I have been told," he says, "by persons of the highest credibility that during the night whisky is not unfrequently brought to the vicinity of military stations, and that the sentinels, after filling the barrels of their muskets therewith, bring it into the 'watch-room,' and divide theloadingwith their comrades."

After remarking the melancholy fact, which the strictest examination would, we fear confirm, in a still higher degree, that the sewing-girls employed in our umbrella factories, tailor establishments, &c., are very inadequately paid, he makes a statement which is, however, glaringly false, that among these poor girls corruption of manners prevails to a degree unknown in any country of Europe, save indeed "merry England." Without being familiar with such statistics, we are on the contrary firmly convinced that though females in these employments arenotso well paid even as in Germany, there is no country on the face of the earth—most certainly not in Bavaria, Austria, or Prussia, where the standard of morals is in this respect so high as in our own. There are a thousand correlative facts in the state of society in our country which confirm our assertion. This opinion of our author's is, however, slightly at variance, as far as appearance is concerned, with a part of the following good advice to the more beautiful portion of his fair young countrywomen, who propose repairing to this country for the sake of catching husbands:

"And I deem this a fit place to give them a warning, which I have before often repeated, namely, that these lovely beings, when they forsake their homes, also leave behind them their fantastic national dress. In this country long dresses are worn—and not merely frocks which barely reach the knee, as is usual in several parts of Germany. The same may be applied to their head-dresses, which are not unfrequently so eccentric as to give their wearers the appearance of having escaped from a lunatic asylum. On which account, I beg myladies, or any women who design emigrating to this land of equality, to buy themselves French bonnets,[2]or a similar style of head covering, but in no instance to run bareheaded about the streets, which is here remarkably unpopular, since neither widow, wife, nor maiden, ever appears in the public way without hat or bonnet. And I moreover beg of them, on their first arrival in the populous cities, to restrain their manifestations of affection to the house, where walls are the only witnesses,and not to permit their lovers, fiancées, or husbands, to clasp them about the waist, and lead them in this close embrace about the streets, since this would be for Americans a scandalous spectacle. I will not assert that the American is incapable of tender feeling, but he at least observes decency in the public streets, andaproposof this, I would further remark, that in this country the wife or maiden invariably walks by the side of her male companion, and never follows after him inIndian file—that is, like geese returning from pasture."

In his chapter on hat-makers, we are informed that neither French, Germans, nor English, can in this country compete with the Americans in the manufacture of hats; and that he was informed by a very intelligent manufacturer that the work of Germans by no means suited our market, and further, that within a few years past the use of caps has increased at least two thirds, though these are by no means so well adapted to carry papers, &c., as hats, in which Americans are accustomed to convey their archives.

Of boarding-houses:

"These extremely convenient establishments, in which lodging, food, and all things requisite, are provided, may be found in all the cities in the United States; but we first learn to duly appreciate their value, when, on returning to Germany, we find ourselves obliged either to lodge in a hotel, or for a short stay in a place hire and perhaps furnish rooms for ourselves."These communistic institutions, where one person or family takes care of several, give theboarderall the conveniences of a hotel, united to the advantages of dwelling in a private family. He has opportunities of entering such society as is adapted to his habits and tastes, in addition to which he haswhat may be termed achez soi—he feels that he is 'in house.'[3]"Such boarding-houses are generally kept by widows or old maids, and even ladies of the highest families take refuge in this branch of industry, to maintain respectably themselves and families."Fashionable houses of this sort are splendidly furnished, and supplied with excellent dishes and attendance. In these the price is naturally high, since for a room, without fuel, from six to twelve dollars a week is generally paid. Rooms in the upper part of the house are of course cheaper. The parlor is common to all the persons in the house—they meet there, before and after meals, pass the evening with reading, music, &c., receive visits, and live in all respects as if at home."The Americans are of a very accommodating disposition—particularly the men, who, from a regard for the lady of the house, are easily contented. The ladies, on the contrary, very frequently indulge in little feuds, produced by theennuiresulting from a want of domestic employment, and living in common; but all are on the whole very circumspect, are careful to livein Christian love and unitywith one another, and never offend external propriety."It is not requisite in America to take a license from the police to establish a boarding-house, unless a bar-room be therewith connected. The person undertaking such an enterprise rents a house, makes it known in newspapers or among friends, or simply placards on the door 'Boarding'—and the establishment is opened without further ceremony. Particular introductions and recommendations are requisite to be received in a boarding-house of higher rank."

"These communistic institutions, where one person or family takes care of several, give theboarderall the conveniences of a hotel, united to the advantages of dwelling in a private family. He has opportunities of entering such society as is adapted to his habits and tastes, in addition to which he haswhat may be termed achez soi—he feels that he is 'in house.'[3]

"Such boarding-houses are generally kept by widows or old maids, and even ladies of the highest families take refuge in this branch of industry, to maintain respectably themselves and families.

"Fashionable houses of this sort are splendidly furnished, and supplied with excellent dishes and attendance. In these the price is naturally high, since for a room, without fuel, from six to twelve dollars a week is generally paid. Rooms in the upper part of the house are of course cheaper. The parlor is common to all the persons in the house—they meet there, before and after meals, pass the evening with reading, music, &c., receive visits, and live in all respects as if at home.

"The Americans are of a very accommodating disposition—particularly the men, who, from a regard for the lady of the house, are easily contented. The ladies, on the contrary, very frequently indulge in little feuds, produced by theennuiresulting from a want of domestic employment, and living in common; but all are on the whole very circumspect, are careful to livein Christian love and unitywith one another, and never offend external propriety.

"It is not requisite in America to take a license from the police to establish a boarding-house, unless a bar-room be therewith connected. The person undertaking such an enterprise rents a house, makes it known in newspapers or among friends, or simply placards on the door 'Boarding'—and the establishment is opened without further ceremony. Particular introductions and recommendations are requisite to be received in a boarding-house of higher rank."

There is even yet a lingering prejudice prevailing in this country in favor of certain musical instruments of European manufacture, which this work is well adapted to dissipate, since the author appears to be in this particular an excellent judge. Take for example his chapter on pianos:

"The favorite musical instrument of the American ladies is the piano, and in every family with the slightest pretensions to education or refinement a piano may certainly be found, upon which, of an evening, the young 'Miss' plays to her parents the pieces which she has learned, or accompanies them with her voice. If the stranger will walk of an evening through the streets of an American city, he can hear in almost every house a piano and the song of youthful voices, often very agreeable, though the latter are not unfrequently wanting in proper culture. Many of these amateurs have beyond doubt remarkable talent, and would in their art attain to a high degree of perfection if they had better opportunities to hear the best music, to study more industriously, and practice more than they do, but their domestic audiences are unfortunately easily pleased, in consequence of which their knowledge seldom extends beyond well known opera pieces and favorite popular airs."A few years since, pianos were generally imported from Germany, England, and France, but it was soon found that their construction and material were by no means adapted to withstand the changes of the American climate; and it was also found that the enormous profit cleared by the importers, might quite as well be retained in this country, and there are consequently, at present, in Boston, New-York, Philadelphia, and even Baltimore, excellent and extensive 'piano forte manufactories,' in which every portion of these instruments is constructed. For this purpose the best varieties of wood known are used, such as mahogany and rosewood, which, however, in America are obtainable at cheap rates. The cases are of the most solid construction possible, and the legs massive, (by which especially the firmest duration is insured) all constructed of the above-mentioned material, which is quickly and accurately cut into the requisite form by a machine.... By means of these and other improvements, but particularly by means of the material, are the American pianos not only far more durable than the imported, but also infinitely less subject to loss of tone."The American pianos are invariably of a table form, in order to adapt them to small rooms. Their tone is sweet and rich, and has been pronounced clear, full and pleasing, by the best European performers. The pianos of Stottart (Stoddard) and Nunns, in New-York, of Laud and Mayer, in Philadelphia, and especially of Chickering, in Boston, enjoy a high reputation. This latter enterprising individual spares no expense to secure the best improvements, and apply them to his instruments. Other excellent manufactories also abound, among which are many German proprietors, who, however, all follow the American style of construction."Previous to the year 1847, about sixty-four patents for improvements in pianos were taken out.... The average price of a splendid 'Chickering,' of 7-1/2 octaves, is from $350 to $400. I have purchased of Stoddard in New-York an excellent and handsome instrument for $250; since which time (A. D. 1848) the price for the same has sunk fifty dollars. Instruments of a lighter construction may be bought for one hundred and fifty dollars; nor will it be long ere the best pianos may be had for a price ranging from $180 to $200. There are in America men whose exclusive business it is to tune pianos, for which they generally receive one dollar...."While on the subject of music, I may be permitted to speak of an outcast class of minstrels,namely, the harp girls; who, after having wandered through Germany, or even England, or having been turned out of the same, find their way to the United States. Especially in New Orleans are they at home, and there sing, in the coffee-houses and bar-rooms, most blackguard (zotenhaften lieder) songs, in the English language, learned eitherat home or in England—partly to the delight and partly to the disgust of the mixed companies there assembled. Germany can in truth take but little pride in such representatives of her nationality. She is already too little appreciated in America to render it necessary that such females should still further degrade her—females, for whom the American (who invariably holds in high respect the sex) entertains an unconquerable disgust. Apropos of those, I may mention the so-called 'broom girls,' who sell a sort of little brooms or fly-brushes, singing therewith fearful songs; and finally, the innumerable organ and tambourine players, who frequently have with them a child which dances like an ape to the sound of their horrible music."

"A few years since, pianos were generally imported from Germany, England, and France, but it was soon found that their construction and material were by no means adapted to withstand the changes of the American climate; and it was also found that the enormous profit cleared by the importers, might quite as well be retained in this country, and there are consequently, at present, in Boston, New-York, Philadelphia, and even Baltimore, excellent and extensive 'piano forte manufactories,' in which every portion of these instruments is constructed. For this purpose the best varieties of wood known are used, such as mahogany and rosewood, which, however, in America are obtainable at cheap rates. The cases are of the most solid construction possible, and the legs massive, (by which especially the firmest duration is insured) all constructed of the above-mentioned material, which is quickly and accurately cut into the requisite form by a machine.... By means of these and other improvements, but particularly by means of the material, are the American pianos not only far more durable than the imported, but also infinitely less subject to loss of tone.

"The American pianos are invariably of a table form, in order to adapt them to small rooms. Their tone is sweet and rich, and has been pronounced clear, full and pleasing, by the best European performers. The pianos of Stottart (Stoddard) and Nunns, in New-York, of Laud and Mayer, in Philadelphia, and especially of Chickering, in Boston, enjoy a high reputation. This latter enterprising individual spares no expense to secure the best improvements, and apply them to his instruments. Other excellent manufactories also abound, among which are many German proprietors, who, however, all follow the American style of construction.

"Previous to the year 1847, about sixty-four patents for improvements in pianos were taken out.... The average price of a splendid 'Chickering,' of 7-1/2 octaves, is from $350 to $400. I have purchased of Stoddard in New-York an excellent and handsome instrument for $250; since which time (A. D. 1848) the price for the same has sunk fifty dollars. Instruments of a lighter construction may be bought for one hundred and fifty dollars; nor will it be long ere the best pianos may be had for a price ranging from $180 to $200. There are in America men whose exclusive business it is to tune pianos, for which they generally receive one dollar....

"While on the subject of music, I may be permitted to speak of an outcast class of minstrels,namely, the harp girls; who, after having wandered through Germany, or even England, or having been turned out of the same, find their way to the United States. Especially in New Orleans are they at home, and there sing, in the coffee-houses and bar-rooms, most blackguard (zotenhaften lieder) songs, in the English language, learned eitherat home or in England—partly to the delight and partly to the disgust of the mixed companies there assembled. Germany can in truth take but little pride in such representatives of her nationality. She is already too little appreciated in America to render it necessary that such females should still further degrade her—females, for whom the American (who invariably holds in high respect the sex) entertains an unconquerable disgust. Apropos of those, I may mention the so-called 'broom girls,' who sell a sort of little brooms or fly-brushes, singing therewith fearful songs; and finally, the innumerable organ and tambourine players, who frequently have with them a child which dances like an ape to the sound of their horrible music."

From the practical and common-sense-like manner in which the subject is treated, the following chapter on boarding-schools will probably prove interesting to every American reader:

"Would not any one imagine that a nation like the German, which is universally recognized as the best educated and most erudite, which has written and effected so much for the cause of education, would naturally be the one to supply the world with accomplished teachers? Is there in the civilized world another nation where so many men have made it the entire business of a life, passed in the most zealous and deeply grounded studies of all languages, living and dead, or who have so fully succeeded in teaching even foreigners their own language? Certainly not. 'Whence comes it then,' any one may reasonably inquire, 'that these learned men, who appear to be, in every respect, so peculiarly adapted to teach, have not long since conducted the education of the whole world? Or why is it, that in North America at least, where a widely spread German element throws open so vast a field to their exertions, they have not the direction of every private school?'"Incomprehensible as this may appear at a first glance, it is still explicable in a few words. The American seeks, for the education of his children,practical men, who are not only adapted to and skilled in their vocation, but also familiar with the world—its progress and requirements—men not only capable of teaching their pupils the rules of grammar and syntax, but who are also qualified to impart the peculiarities and precepts of life in the world at large—men of prepossessing manner and appearance, and whose habits are adapted to the requirements of refined society. This it is, in a few words, that the American requires. And now, I ask—how many old and young teachers are there in Germany thus qualified?"I here speak, of course, in a general way; for I well know that there are in Germany many teachers and learned men, who could more than fulfil all of these requirements of the American parent, but their number is unfortunately limited; and I deem it important that I speak freely and fully on this subject, since many a learned German, whose acquirements and scientific knowledge would insure him an independent and respectable station at home, nevertheless frequently finds himself compelled by the pressure of circumstances to seek America, in the hope of there opening a school, or at least finding employment as teacher, and there too frequently, in addition to the bitterest disappointment, discovers too late that he is fit for no other practical employment which will yield him his daily bread."As a proof, however, that most of these so called pedagogues must in America be necessarily deceived in their expectations, I take the liberty of adding yet a few words."The American requires before all, as far as the moral qualifications of the teacher are concerned, a firm religious tendency—a requirement for which the scion of 'Young Germany,' fresh from his university career, has but little taste; since his recollections of that life are yet too fresh upon him to admit of a willing submission to such rules,—and I advise any one who proposes to follow such a course to become a farmer's man, rather than a hypocrite or sham-saint...."If we proceed in our examination of private schools in America, we find that the majority are for the education of girls. Upon which the question arises—Are German ladies generally adapted to the superintendence of such establishments?—a question which I must either answer with No, or modify with the admission that if there be any schools managed by German ladies, I am ignorant of their existence. The cause for the negative being essentially the same as with the male scholars."No man can better appreciate the worth of German women than myself. I acknowledge perfectly their virtues and excellencies—their domestic sphere is their world, inhabited by their children and ruled by their husbands, whose faithful, true-hearted, modest, obedient companions they are. To be independent and free is not in their nature; they are not so adapted either by origin or manner of life; nor does their education embrace any thing cosmopolitan. Born and brought up in a province, or court city, they have never cast a glance beyond its limits or boundaries, or those of the nearest town, and all that lies beyond is to them unknown and uninteresting. Thus they generally lead, according to ancient custom, (nach altem brauch)an almost vegetable life; and nothing save the dictates of fashion can ever disturb in the slightest degree the equanimity of their quiet souls. They do not in the least interest themselves in the progress of industry, literature, science, or politics, even in Germany—much less for that of foreign countries; but are content with learning in which section of the place they inhabit this or that necessary article may be best or most cheaply purchased; what late foreign romance is current in the circulating library; and what are the latest changes in bonnets, caps, chemisettes, or dresses, in the kingdom of fashion—whose sovereign they all obey. In politics they rest under the perpetual conviction that all goes on in the old way, and pass their leisure hours in coteries and parties, where knittings exclude allspirituelleentertainment. In the lower grades of the middle class, they grow up with an unchangeable feeling of social inferiority, and shudder at every free glance into life, as if guilty of unheard of arrogance and presumption."And how is it possible that a woman who has grown up in such social relations should, despite the fullest possession of all imaginable virtues and acquirements, be capable of teaching high-minded and independent girls? The American maiden regards most household employments as work requiring but little intelligence, and for which even negroes are as well qualified. She believes that she can better occupy the time necessary to the acquisition of subordinate acquirements, and prefers reading, music, and art, to knitting stockings, and similar soul-killing business. She recognizes, moreover, no distinction in rank, but strives to acquire as many accomplishments and as refined manners as any other person. In short, she strives to becomea lady, and regards it as no extraordinary assumption, particularly when education or natural advantages adapt her thereto, to consider herself quite as good as any other woman in the republic. Nor does she forget that the time will come when, as mother, the first development of her child's mind will become a duty, and she remembers also that he will be a republican whose sphere of action is without limit, if his ability correspond only to the effort. Moreover, the American maidens are materially verywide awake, (sehr auf gewecht,) particularly in the large cities, where they enjoy excellent opportunities for instruction, and are proportionally highly educated."The American woman or girl highly esteems theelegantandnoble, striving ever to form herself after this pattern, on which account French female teachers are universally preferred, even when very imperfectly qualified. The revolutions in France have driven forth many well educated persons to America, who have been compelled to seek by teaching a livelihood. Louis Philippe himself was once among the number. In addition to the fact that no nation surpasses the French in personal accomplishments, they have for Americans the further recommendation that their nation has played an important part in modern history. The American is impressed in favor of France, because she aided him in freeing his country from the yoke of England; and this inclination manifests itself continually in language."And when the American boy glances over his school-books, he sees France represented in pictures as thepolitenation, and reads in history that she aided his country in the war of freedom, and that Lafayette was thefriendof Washington; while the same work represents the German as a merely agricultural race, portrayed in the caricature of an Altenburger peasant and his wife, in their fantastic national dress. From the same book he also learns that a German prince sold his subjects for so many pounds per head to aid England to subdue his country. Such contrasts cannot but awake in the child's mind deeply-rooted prejudices, far from favorable to the German race."And since there has been for years an emigration to America of Germans who were very generally poor and uneducated—people speaking a revolting dialect, employed in the lowest offices, and not unfrequently much resembling the pictures in the geographies, the prejudice formed in early youth has been thus strengthened, that the Germans are a rough, uncultivated race, industrious and domestic, it is true, but yet very little improved by civilization—of all which the native Pennsylvania Germans afford unfortunately striking examples. The well-educated American, of course, knows better how to appreciate the true value of the Germans; he is aware of the value of their contributions to literature, science, art, and music; only in politics, and in the practical application of knowledge, he places (and not without justice) but little confidence in them."But the personal appearance and bearing of many Germans, who are in themselves truly worthy of respect, often induce the well-educated and refined American to place in the back ground their otherwise estimable qualities. There is often something rough and harsh about the German, and his domestic habits are not invariably in unison with his erudition and excellent education, but frequently destroy the good impression which the latter might produce; moreover, their 'geselliges Leben,' (social jovial life) as Germans term it, with its accompaniments of pipe and mug, are in the highest degree revolting to an American. And further, it is taken ill of the German that he considers that regard for the sex, entertained by the American, as carried somewhat too far, and allows himself to form on this point a too hasty, and not seldom unfavorable judgment, without seeking to examine more accurately this domestic characteristic. Many Germansfind it impossible to enter into the spirit of American life, customs, and manners, while on religious subjects it appears impossible for either to adopt the same views: so that there is apparently almost no point in common between them."

"Incomprehensible as this may appear at a first glance, it is still explicable in a few words. The American seeks, for the education of his children,practical men, who are not only adapted to and skilled in their vocation, but also familiar with the world—its progress and requirements—men not only capable of teaching their pupils the rules of grammar and syntax, but who are also qualified to impart the peculiarities and precepts of life in the world at large—men of prepossessing manner and appearance, and whose habits are adapted to the requirements of refined society. This it is, in a few words, that the American requires. And now, I ask—how many old and young teachers are there in Germany thus qualified?

"I here speak, of course, in a general way; for I well know that there are in Germany many teachers and learned men, who could more than fulfil all of these requirements of the American parent, but their number is unfortunately limited; and I deem it important that I speak freely and fully on this subject, since many a learned German, whose acquirements and scientific knowledge would insure him an independent and respectable station at home, nevertheless frequently finds himself compelled by the pressure of circumstances to seek America, in the hope of there opening a school, or at least finding employment as teacher, and there too frequently, in addition to the bitterest disappointment, discovers too late that he is fit for no other practical employment which will yield him his daily bread.

"As a proof, however, that most of these so called pedagogues must in America be necessarily deceived in their expectations, I take the liberty of adding yet a few words.

"The American requires before all, as far as the moral qualifications of the teacher are concerned, a firm religious tendency—a requirement for which the scion of 'Young Germany,' fresh from his university career, has but little taste; since his recollections of that life are yet too fresh upon him to admit of a willing submission to such rules,—and I advise any one who proposes to follow such a course to become a farmer's man, rather than a hypocrite or sham-saint....

"If we proceed in our examination of private schools in America, we find that the majority are for the education of girls. Upon which the question arises—Are German ladies generally adapted to the superintendence of such establishments?—a question which I must either answer with No, or modify with the admission that if there be any schools managed by German ladies, I am ignorant of their existence. The cause for the negative being essentially the same as with the male scholars.

"No man can better appreciate the worth of German women than myself. I acknowledge perfectly their virtues and excellencies—their domestic sphere is their world, inhabited by their children and ruled by their husbands, whose faithful, true-hearted, modest, obedient companions they are. To be independent and free is not in their nature; they are not so adapted either by origin or manner of life; nor does their education embrace any thing cosmopolitan. Born and brought up in a province, or court city, they have never cast a glance beyond its limits or boundaries, or those of the nearest town, and all that lies beyond is to them unknown and uninteresting. Thus they generally lead, according to ancient custom, (nach altem brauch)an almost vegetable life; and nothing save the dictates of fashion can ever disturb in the slightest degree the equanimity of their quiet souls. They do not in the least interest themselves in the progress of industry, literature, science, or politics, even in Germany—much less for that of foreign countries; but are content with learning in which section of the place they inhabit this or that necessary article may be best or most cheaply purchased; what late foreign romance is current in the circulating library; and what are the latest changes in bonnets, caps, chemisettes, or dresses, in the kingdom of fashion—whose sovereign they all obey. In politics they rest under the perpetual conviction that all goes on in the old way, and pass their leisure hours in coteries and parties, where knittings exclude allspirituelleentertainment. In the lower grades of the middle class, they grow up with an unchangeable feeling of social inferiority, and shudder at every free glance into life, as if guilty of unheard of arrogance and presumption.

"And how is it possible that a woman who has grown up in such social relations should, despite the fullest possession of all imaginable virtues and acquirements, be capable of teaching high-minded and independent girls? The American maiden regards most household employments as work requiring but little intelligence, and for which even negroes are as well qualified. She believes that she can better occupy the time necessary to the acquisition of subordinate acquirements, and prefers reading, music, and art, to knitting stockings, and similar soul-killing business. She recognizes, moreover, no distinction in rank, but strives to acquire as many accomplishments and as refined manners as any other person. In short, she strives to becomea lady, and regards it as no extraordinary assumption, particularly when education or natural advantages adapt her thereto, to consider herself quite as good as any other woman in the republic. Nor does she forget that the time will come when, as mother, the first development of her child's mind will become a duty, and she remembers also that he will be a republican whose sphere of action is without limit, if his ability correspond only to the effort. Moreover, the American maidens are materially verywide awake, (sehr auf gewecht,) particularly in the large cities, where they enjoy excellent opportunities for instruction, and are proportionally highly educated.

"The American woman or girl highly esteems theelegantandnoble, striving ever to form herself after this pattern, on which account French female teachers are universally preferred, even when very imperfectly qualified. The revolutions in France have driven forth many well educated persons to America, who have been compelled to seek by teaching a livelihood. Louis Philippe himself was once among the number. In addition to the fact that no nation surpasses the French in personal accomplishments, they have for Americans the further recommendation that their nation has played an important part in modern history. The American is impressed in favor of France, because she aided him in freeing his country from the yoke of England; and this inclination manifests itself continually in language.

"And when the American boy glances over his school-books, he sees France represented in pictures as thepolitenation, and reads in history that she aided his country in the war of freedom, and that Lafayette was thefriendof Washington; while the same work represents the German as a merely agricultural race, portrayed in the caricature of an Altenburger peasant and his wife, in their fantastic national dress. From the same book he also learns that a German prince sold his subjects for so many pounds per head to aid England to subdue his country. Such contrasts cannot but awake in the child's mind deeply-rooted prejudices, far from favorable to the German race.

"And since there has been for years an emigration to America of Germans who were very generally poor and uneducated—people speaking a revolting dialect, employed in the lowest offices, and not unfrequently much resembling the pictures in the geographies, the prejudice formed in early youth has been thus strengthened, that the Germans are a rough, uncultivated race, industrious and domestic, it is true, but yet very little improved by civilization—of all which the native Pennsylvania Germans afford unfortunately striking examples. The well-educated American, of course, knows better how to appreciate the true value of the Germans; he is aware of the value of their contributions to literature, science, art, and music; only in politics, and in the practical application of knowledge, he places (and not without justice) but little confidence in them.

"But the personal appearance and bearing of many Germans, who are in themselves truly worthy of respect, often induce the well-educated and refined American to place in the back ground their otherwise estimable qualities. There is often something rough and harsh about the German, and his domestic habits are not invariably in unison with his erudition and excellent education, but frequently destroy the good impression which the latter might produce; moreover, their 'geselliges Leben,' (social jovial life) as Germans term it, with its accompaniments of pipe and mug, are in the highest degree revolting to an American. And further, it is taken ill of the German that he considers that regard for the sex, entertained by the American, as carried somewhat too far, and allows himself to form on this point a too hasty, and not seldom unfavorable judgment, without seeking to examine more accurately this domestic characteristic. Many Germansfind it impossible to enter into the spirit of American life, customs, and manners, while on religious subjects it appears impossible for either to adopt the same views: so that there is apparently almost no point in common between them."

After stating that many educated Germans might succeed as teachers in this country, could they dispense with national peculiarities, and a description of the manner of establishing schools, in which he pays a high compliment to the general appearance of such institutions in our country, he adds:

"The superintendent of such an establishment must entirely renounce all visits to bar-rooms and coffee-houses. He must learn to impart to his system of instruction the elements of novelty and attractiveness, and especially learn to make friends of the children. It is utterly impossible in this country to manage a school by the mere force of power and authority, and the teacher attempting this, soon experiences a revolution by which indeed he is not exactlydriven forth, but leftaloneon hiscathedra."

With this extract we close, regretting that we have been obliged to leave untranslated many more practical and not less interesting items. We consider the entire work as the best possible answer which can be given to the question, 'Why has America done so little for England's fair?' No one who contemplates in it the immense range of our manufactories—our incredible combinations of excellence and cheapness, and the almost superhuman rapidity of our progress in every branch of industrial and social life, will entertain for an instant the slightest regret that we have not done more to increase the profits of John Bull's raree-show.

FOOTNOTES:[1]Muffins?—International.[2]Pariser-tracht—French dress—is the epithet usually applied in Germany to our ordinary style of costume, in contradistinction to theBauern-tracht, or peasant's costume, which is so frequently seen among German immigrants.[3]Zu hause—at house, at home. In this sentence the reader finds a striking exemplification of the saying, that neither in French nor German is there a word forhome.

[1]Muffins?—International.

[2]Pariser-tracht—French dress—is the epithet usually applied in Germany to our ordinary style of costume, in contradistinction to theBauern-tracht, or peasant's costume, which is so frequently seen among German immigrants.

[3]Zu hause—at house, at home. In this sentence the reader finds a striking exemplification of the saying, that neither in French nor German is there a word forhome.

The scent of burning sandal-woodPerfumes the air in vain;A sweeter odor fills my sense,A fiercer fire my brain!O press your burning lips to mine!—For mine will never part,Until my heart has rifled allThe sweetness of your heart!The lutes are playing on the lawn,The moon is shining bright,But we like stars are melting nowIn clouds of soft delight!

The scent of burning sandal-woodPerfumes the air in vain;A sweeter odor fills my sense,A fiercer fire my brain!

O press your burning lips to mine!—For mine will never part,Until my heart has rifled allThe sweetness of your heart!

The lutes are playing on the lawn,The moon is shining bright,But we like stars are melting nowIn clouds of soft delight!

Cicada sits upon a sprig,And makes his song resound;For he is happy when a twigLifts him above the ground.And so am I, when lifted upOn hopes delusive wing;I laugh, and quaff the flowing cup,I love, I write, I sing!Should clouds or cares obscure our sky,And all be gloom around,My merry little friend and ISoon tumble to the ground.

Cicada sits upon a sprig,And makes his song resound;For he is happy when a twigLifts him above the ground.

And so am I, when lifted upOn hopes delusive wing;I laugh, and quaff the flowing cup,I love, I write, I sing!

Should clouds or cares obscure our sky,And all be gloom around,My merry little friend and ISoon tumble to the ground.

M. Leon Gozlan, one of the most esteemed magazinists in France, has lately paid a flying visit to the scene of his country's most glorious disasters, Waterloo, and has given a characteristic account of what he saw and heard there. We quote a part of it, in which he describes a knavish practice of which great numbers are every year made victims. M. Gozlan has just passed through the BrusselsfaubourgLouisa, and is oppressed with most melancholy reflections, when his coachman addresses him—

"Sir," exclaimed my conductor, suddenly interrupting my meditations, "excuse me if I am troublesome, but before arriving at Mont-Saint-Jean I wish to warn you of a knavish trade you have probably never heard of at Paris.""A knavish trade unknown at Paris?" I replied, incredulously; "that is rather surprising. But come, tell me what is this new species of industry.""You can easily suppose," pursued my loquacious coachman, "that after the battle of Waterloo there remained on the field a large quantity of cannon-balls, buttons, small brass eagles, and broken weapons. Well, for the last thirty-four years, the country people have been carrying on a famous business in these articles.""It seems to me, however, my friend," I observed, "that a sale continued for so long a period, must have left very little to be disposed of at present.""True, sir; and this is precisely what I would guard you against. Those who obtain a subsistence by such means, purchase the goods new at a manufactory, in shares, and then bury in different parts of the field, and for a wide space around, pieces of imperial brass eagles, thousands of metal buttons, and heaps of iron balls. This crop is allowed to rest in the earth until summer, for few strangers visit Waterloo in winter; and when the fine weather arrives, they dig up their relics, to which a sojourn of eight months in a damp soil gives an appearance of age, deceiving the keenest observer, and awakening the admiration of pilgrims.""But this is a shameful deceit.""True again, sir; but the country is very poor about here; and after all, perhaps," added the philosophic driver, "no great harm is done. This year the harvest of brass eagles has been very fair."We entered the forest of Soignies by a narrow and naturally covered alley, the two sides crowned with the most luxuriant foliage. Poplars, elms, and plane-trees appeared to be striving which should attain the highest elevation. One peculiarity I could not avoid remarking in the midst of this solemn and beautiful abode of nature, and that was the perfect stillness prevailing around. The air itself seemed without palpitation, and during a ride of nearly two hours through this sylvan gallery, not even the note of a bird broke on the solitude. A forest without feathered songsters appeared unnatural, and the only possible reason that could be imagined for such a circumstance might be, that since the formidable day of Waterloo, they had quitted these shades, never to return, frightened away by the roar ofthe cannon and the dismal noise of war. What melancholy is impressed upon the beautiful forest of Soignies! I cannot overcome the idea, that since Providence destined it should become the mute spectator of the great event in its vicinity, it has retained the mysterious memory in the folding of its leaves and the depths of its shades. Destiny designs the theatre for grand actions. An army of one hundred thousand men perished there. Such was the irrevocable decree."Do you think," I inquired of the coachman, wishing to change the current of my thoughts, "there are persons so unscrupulous as to speculate on the curiosity of tourists to Waterloo in the manner you have described?""Ah, sir," he replied, "I have not told you half the tricks they practice on the credulous. It would indeed fatigue you if I mentioned all of them, but if you will permit me, I will relate an instance I witnessed myself one day. I was conducting from Waterloo to Brussels a French artist and a Prussian tourist. The Prussian supported on his knee some object very carefully enveloped in a handkerchief, and which he seemed to value greatly. When we had arrived about midway on the road, he inquired of the Frenchman whether he had brought away with him any souvenir of his pilgrimage to Waterloo."'In good faith no,' replied the other; and yet I was on the point of making a certain acquisition, but the exorbitant price demanded prevented me: one hundred francs, besides the trouble of carrying off such an article.'"'What could it have been?' demanded the Prussian, curiously."'You must not feel offended if I tell you,' returned the artist; 'it was the skull of a Prussian colonel, a magnificent one! And what rendered it more valuable, it was pierced by three holes, made by the balls of Waterloo. One was in the forehead, the others were through the temples. I should have had no objection to secure this, if I could have afforded it, and have had a lamp made of the skull of a Prussian officer killed by the French. And you, sir?' he continued, looking at the packet carried by his fellow-traveller, 'pray what luck have you had?'"'I,' replied the Prussian, with an uneasy movement, and looking greatly confused, 'I am astonished at the wonderful resemblance of what has happened to both of us, for I purchased this morning the skull of a French colonel killed by a Prussian at Waterloo.'"'You, sir?'"'Y—e—s,' stammered the Prussian, 'and I thought of having it made into a cup to drink the health of Blucher at each anniversary of our victory.'"'And is the skull pierced by three bullets?' demanded the Frenchman, his suspicions becoming awakened."With a look of consternation the Prussian hastily unrolled the handkerchief, and examined the contents. The skull bore the same marks indicated by his travelling companion! It was the identical relic that was French when offered to an Englishman or Prussian, and had become Prussian or English when offered to a Frenchman."This, sir," added Jehu, smacking his whip, "you will admit, is worse than selling false brass buttons and the Emperor's eagles."

"A knavish trade unknown at Paris?" I replied, incredulously; "that is rather surprising. But come, tell me what is this new species of industry."

"You can easily suppose," pursued my loquacious coachman, "that after the battle of Waterloo there remained on the field a large quantity of cannon-balls, buttons, small brass eagles, and broken weapons. Well, for the last thirty-four years, the country people have been carrying on a famous business in these articles."

"It seems to me, however, my friend," I observed, "that a sale continued for so long a period, must have left very little to be disposed of at present."

"True, sir; and this is precisely what I would guard you against. Those who obtain a subsistence by such means, purchase the goods new at a manufactory, in shares, and then bury in different parts of the field, and for a wide space around, pieces of imperial brass eagles, thousands of metal buttons, and heaps of iron balls. This crop is allowed to rest in the earth until summer, for few strangers visit Waterloo in winter; and when the fine weather arrives, they dig up their relics, to which a sojourn of eight months in a damp soil gives an appearance of age, deceiving the keenest observer, and awakening the admiration of pilgrims."

"But this is a shameful deceit."

"True again, sir; but the country is very poor about here; and after all, perhaps," added the philosophic driver, "no great harm is done. This year the harvest of brass eagles has been very fair."

We entered the forest of Soignies by a narrow and naturally covered alley, the two sides crowned with the most luxuriant foliage. Poplars, elms, and plane-trees appeared to be striving which should attain the highest elevation. One peculiarity I could not avoid remarking in the midst of this solemn and beautiful abode of nature, and that was the perfect stillness prevailing around. The air itself seemed without palpitation, and during a ride of nearly two hours through this sylvan gallery, not even the note of a bird broke on the solitude. A forest without feathered songsters appeared unnatural, and the only possible reason that could be imagined for such a circumstance might be, that since the formidable day of Waterloo, they had quitted these shades, never to return, frightened away by the roar ofthe cannon and the dismal noise of war. What melancholy is impressed upon the beautiful forest of Soignies! I cannot overcome the idea, that since Providence destined it should become the mute spectator of the great event in its vicinity, it has retained the mysterious memory in the folding of its leaves and the depths of its shades. Destiny designs the theatre for grand actions. An army of one hundred thousand men perished there. Such was the irrevocable decree.

"Do you think," I inquired of the coachman, wishing to change the current of my thoughts, "there are persons so unscrupulous as to speculate on the curiosity of tourists to Waterloo in the manner you have described?"

"Ah, sir," he replied, "I have not told you half the tricks they practice on the credulous. It would indeed fatigue you if I mentioned all of them, but if you will permit me, I will relate an instance I witnessed myself one day. I was conducting from Waterloo to Brussels a French artist and a Prussian tourist. The Prussian supported on his knee some object very carefully enveloped in a handkerchief, and which he seemed to value greatly. When we had arrived about midway on the road, he inquired of the Frenchman whether he had brought away with him any souvenir of his pilgrimage to Waterloo.

"'In good faith no,' replied the other; and yet I was on the point of making a certain acquisition, but the exorbitant price demanded prevented me: one hundred francs, besides the trouble of carrying off such an article.'

"'What could it have been?' demanded the Prussian, curiously.

"'You must not feel offended if I tell you,' returned the artist; 'it was the skull of a Prussian colonel, a magnificent one! And what rendered it more valuable, it was pierced by three holes, made by the balls of Waterloo. One was in the forehead, the others were through the temples. I should have had no objection to secure this, if I could have afforded it, and have had a lamp made of the skull of a Prussian officer killed by the French. And you, sir?' he continued, looking at the packet carried by his fellow-traveller, 'pray what luck have you had?'

"'I,' replied the Prussian, with an uneasy movement, and looking greatly confused, 'I am astonished at the wonderful resemblance of what has happened to both of us, for I purchased this morning the skull of a French colonel killed by a Prussian at Waterloo.'

"'You, sir?'

"'Y—e—s,' stammered the Prussian, 'and I thought of having it made into a cup to drink the health of Blucher at each anniversary of our victory.'

"'And is the skull pierced by three bullets?' demanded the Frenchman, his suspicions becoming awakened.

"With a look of consternation the Prussian hastily unrolled the handkerchief, and examined the contents. The skull bore the same marks indicated by his travelling companion! It was the identical relic that was French when offered to an Englishman or Prussian, and had become Prussian or English when offered to a Frenchman.

"This, sir," added Jehu, smacking his whip, "you will admit, is worse than selling false brass buttons and the Emperor's eagles."

We have frequently been interested by the clever contributions ofM. Philarète Chaslesto theRevue des Deux Mondes. They are chiefly on English and American literature, and among them are specimens of acute and genial criticism. M. Chasles has just published in Paris a collection of these papers, and we translate forThe Internationala reviewal of it which appears in a late number of the French journal, theIllustration. Says the writer, M. Hipolyte Babou:

Books are becoming scarce. To be sure, volume upon volume is published every day, but a book that is a book is arara avis, and if any one should inquire whose fault it is, we reply that it is the fault of the press, constantly requiring the first-fruits of a writer's meditations. The journalist has displaced the author. The fugitive page rules the great world of literature. Wit, talent, genius, science, have not time to consolidate their thoughts, before they are disseminated. They are like the folds of the birchen bark, thrown off as soon as formed, to give place to new ones. And these in their turn fall, and are scattered. But, when we wish it, we can collect our literary leaves. How many handsome volumes are made up of weekly and monthly pages! The binder runs his needle through a collection, and the book is made.

What kind of book? Ah, truly, it is not the venerable work of past days, which took ten years to print and bring to perfection, establishing at once a literary fame. It is simply a series of articles written by steam, printed by steam, and some bright morning bound up under a common title. But what is the story and the attraction of such works? Bless you! there is no story. The attraction is in the style (when there is any) and in the variety of subjects, which generally produces a variety of impressions.

For an ordinary reader, to whom continued attention produces headache, there is nothing more agreeable than those album-pages, or fragments of mosaic. Thinking and serious minds turn rather towards works of consecutive reflection, or whose details contribute to the beauty of some whole. Variety is the wind to the weather-cock; and unity is the inflexible pivot which every weather-cock requires to keep it from being blown away. Thoughtful minds prefer unity above every thing. And yet they are only heavier weather-cocks, which turn round with a grating.

Nervous and discursive reader! logical and phlegmatic reader! here is a book which will suit you both. M. Philarète Chasles has just published expressly for you hisStudies upon the Literature and Manners of the Anglo-Americans in the Nineteenth Century. It is a work by compartments, any of theminteresting to the superficial reader, and forming at the same time a perfect whole.

Under the influence of a spirit of order, which professors by their vocation are very apt to possess in an eminent degree, the author has composed his work, not of articles written for journals, but by detailing articles a work whose plan he had before considered. The general design, to which he is obedient, is clearly developed, page by page, in his curious studies upon the Anglo-Americans.

It is a vile term—that of Anglo-American—a pedantic term—and rather surprising from the pen of Chasles. For, professor as he is, he despises pedantry as the plague. There is nothing doctoral in his literary costume; and if he has any pretension, it resembles in no particular the grave assumptions of the cathedrants of the university. It would be a mortification to him to belong to the school of the Sorbonne. He is a member of the free family of the College of France, where individual genius has triumphed more than once over the sterile routine of tradition.

Before filling the chair of professor, the author ofEtudeshad written much in journals and reviews. He writes still, and is always welcome to the public. For, it may be remarked without malice, he has always had a larger audience of readers than of listeners. And that it is so is rather complimentary than otherwise. How is it, indeed, that the intellectual humorist succeeds better as an author than as a teacher? What does he need to insure, if he wishes it, the enthusiastic admiration of the young public whom he instructs? Has he not at command those vivid flashings of the imagination which, by an electric sympathy, might bring down about him thunders of applause? Is he fearful that his gesture and his voice would not become his thought? Does he disdain to have recourse, hap-hazard, to the little artifices of eloquence? It is very easy to gain popularity by a juggle, when it cannot be done by the force of true oratory. Be enthusiastic of your merits. Mingle with the swellings of poetry a certain dogmatism of opinion—call to your aid assurance, impudence, and all the insipidities of thestyle printanier—fire, as it were, pistol-shots into the audience, and continue the fire by a brilliant musketry of little fulminating phrases—the victory is yours, unless you are essentially an ass. For youth—verdant youth—will always be carried away by the expression, true or false, of feeling.

M. Philarète Chasles is said to want in some degree that great constituent of humanity—passion. He is one of those refined and delicate writers who employ all their genius to ridicule the mind, and all their reason to drive to shipwreck upon the beautiful waters of poesie the most charming flotillas of the imagination. He belongs to the breed of sharp raillers, whose skepticism points an epigram. In a word, there is no reverse side for his admiration on any question—a habit of judging quite common among many writers, genuine and charlatan.

But this is not saying that the author ofEtudesdoes not feel deeply the irresistible attraction of the beau ideal; or that we are treating of one of those representatives of pompous and stupid criticism, who are so justly despised by the poets. Certainly not. On the contrary, M. Chasles combines a vigorous hate of ornate folly and vulgarity with a profound disgust towards tame or extravagant conventionalism. The academic style has no fascination for him. He likes elbow-room in the discussion of art, and if he finds himself confined by the close-fitting coat of the professor, he rips it asunder, stretching out his arms in a fit of restlessness. A protective literature regards him among its most resolute adversaries. No custom-houses in literature for him, and particularly no excisemen, who, under pretext of contraband, drive their brutal gauge-rods into the free productions of human intelligence.

M. Philarète Chasles is a literary disciple of Cobden. He would not only lower the barriers between province and province, but wholly abolish them between nation and nation. His imagination carries him as a balloon beyond the tops of custom-houses; and after visiting the shores of England and America, he returns to France with some curious samples of foreign literature. By this come-and-go policy of importation and exportation, he has created, or at least developed, a noble spirit of commerce, which may be termed international criticism.

This commerce is particularly useful for us who are always ready to proclaim ourselves in every thing and to every one the first nation of the globe. It is an auspicious time therefore to become acquainted with the weaknesses of our character without losing its force. The glory of the past obliges us to think of the glory of the future, which can be easily lost to us if ambition does not come in time to animate our courage. To deny that there are rivals is no way to conquer them. It is a great deal better to study them attentively, and to consider beforehand the perils of the combat. We are indeed the heroes of genius, but if we misapprehend the tactics, we say it frankly, we shall be beaten.

The author of theEtudeswishes to spare us such a humiliation, by telling us of the enemy as he is; and in this sense his work is truly patriotic, and cannot be unacceptable to any.

Many writers have instituted a relation between us and the Latins and Greeks. M. Chasles thinks that to remember the glorious dead of the south is to engender contempt for the living. It is not then towards the south that he directs his attention. The Saxon race, beyond the British Sea and theAtlantic, preoccupies him. The nations in progress are those most hopeful for new and immortal productions of the muse. The rest of the world is given to an incurable imitation. And M. Chasles is right in bringing us into the presence of the English and the Americans. He is sufficiently conversant with their language to fulfil the delicate functions of interpreter.

I know writers who, on account of studying foreign literature, so bear the imprints of it in their works, that one would say in reading them, that he had before him French translations of Italian or German, or English, or Spanish. The literary temperament of M. Chasles, however, is not changed, notwithstanding his migrations. The author ofEtudesthinks in French, writes in French, and what is more, in French inherited from a Gaul. He preserves in his mind the brightness of his native sky, whether he wanders in the fogs of London, or is becoming a victim of ennui among the vapors of New-York. His pen seems to strike out sparks as he writes. He is active and bold, strong and light, independent and courteous. Nothing stops him. He runs oftener than he walks, and leaps over an obstacle that he may not lose time in going round it. Indeed, every thing is accomplished well by the intelligence that judges as it travels. Reflection itself is rapid, and logic hastens the step and smooths the way. A light and tripping foot belongs especially to criticism. If it raises a little brilliant dust in the road, it is no matter, it soon falls again. M. Chasles has no taste for old truths; he prefers much some kind of paradox which is now a truth and now a lie. It is for this reason that foreigners reproach him with being superficial. Very well! let him be so. He is a true Frenchman, for he touches only the flower of ideas, and, for a Frenchman, the flower and the surface are all one.

It is not just, however, to regard this reproach as wholly merited, although (originating beyond the British Sea) it is reproduced among us by those would-be grave men who are dull writers. M. Chasles often allies lightness of expression with great profundity of thought. His style cuts as a blade of steel. He has eloquence, gayety, irony, caprice, and all in a perfect measure. No style resembles less the childish dashes of persons of wit, and who possess nothing else—who play the mountebank by a hundred tricks to astonish the gaping crowd—a light style, if you please, but empty as it is light.

TheEtudesof M. Chasles are not of that superficial character adopted by many. The admiration of ninnies is not his desire. The object that he pursues continues ever a serious one, although a thousand graces ornament the way. He has vivacity without losing precision—two characteristics of good writing seldom found together. If he indulges in digressions, they are not perceptible until the reappearance of his subject shows us how gracefully he has departed from it. He passes rapidly over what is known, while with an especial care he dwells on what is unknown. Thus, in the history of American literature he does not amuse himself long with the popular names of Fenimore Cooper and Franklin. What could he say new respecting these two great ornaments of American science and literature? His instinct of observation and criticism suggested to him the works less known of Gouverneur Morris and Hermann Melville. Between these two writers, of whom one was the contemporary of Washington, and the other still living in some corner of Massachusetts, are ranged according to their date the productions of the writers of the great American nation.

Gouverneur Morris was of a noble spirit. HisMémoiresrepresent to us, with a full and attractive fidelity, the opinion which the young and tranquil republic of the United States entertained at the close of the eighteenth century, of the men and the events of our French Revolution. He was far from misunderstanding the abuses of our ancient society, but he deplored that it was necessary for violence to abolish them. A sensible and polished observer, he criticised them without passion, and with a benevolent irony. Let us hear him tell of a conversation he had, at Madame de la Suze's, with one of the most brilliant leaders of the gay world that had just perished. In a few lines, he presents an admirable sketch of the personage:

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