Poems, by FRANCES ANN BUTLER, late FANNY KIMBLE.

THE "American Journal of Miss Fanny Kemble, published seven or eight years ago, must still be fresh in the recollection of many of our readers. Its affectations of style, and the semi-aristocratic assumptions of its author, drew down the censure, not of the critics only, but of the The public. There is little of this in the little volume before us. Poems, however, are unworthy of the name. They are exceedingly common place. The following is one the best pieces in the collection:THE DEATH-SONG.

1

MOTHER, mother! my heart is wild,
Hold me upon your bosom dear,
Do not frown on your own poor child,
Death is darkly drawing near.

Mother, mother! the bitter shame,
Eats into my very soul;

And longing love, like a wrapping flame,
Burns me away without control.

Mother, mother! upon my brow

The clammy death-sweats coldly rise;
How dim and strange your features grow
Through the hot mist that veils my eyes!

Mother, mother! sing me the song
They sing on sunny August eves,
The rustling barley-fields along,
Binding up the ripe, red sheaves.

Mother, mother! I do not hear

Your voice-but his,-oh, guard me well!
His breathing makes me faint with fear,
His clasping arms are round me still.

Mother, mother! unbind my vest,
Upon my heart lies his first token:

Now lay me in my narrow nest,

Your wither'd blossom, crush'd and broken.

The Birthday: a Tale for the Young. By the Author of "Gideon," "Jonah," &c.

THIS is a well-told story. It is also one of great interest, and ingeniously and pleasingly inculcates important moral truths. The author's previous works have earned for him a high reputation in that department of literature in which the inculcation of moral truths is blended with the sallies of the imagination. It is right, however, we should warn those who are opposed to the new theological views which are now so much in vogue in Oxford, that these views are indirectly inculcated in this beautiful, and otherwise meritorious volume before us. publications of the Tract Society are held up to condemnation, and the evangelical party are caricatured in the person of Mrs. Dawson, the personages who figure prominently in the volume. The book is embellished with a well-executed frontispiece.

The

one of

Musings. By the Author of " Heart Breathings."

THIS is one of the most beautifully got up volumes we have ever seen. It is a triumph of typographical taste, and the style of binding is correspondingly elegant; but the little book has still higher recommendations than these. It contains the utterances of a heart which is guided and governed by celestial principles. The pious aspirations and contemplations of the author can hardly fail to be of great benefit to the minds of others, who may, like him, feel this world to be a wilderness, and are travelling along a rough though right way to a heavenly home. We give one specimen of these "Musings." It is headed "My Mother's Portrait " :

"I MUSE, dear mother, on thy sacred memory! Not many years ago, I lay, a helpless babe, beneath thy gentle care. Unconscious of each danger—scarce aware of oft-repeated wants, I reposed on thee-a poor dependant on thyself! 'Twas love-a mother's love-which prompted thee to watch thy infant; and when that watching I contemplate, I cannot but admire His mercy who appointed thee my mother! But for his compassion-unmerited indeed-I might have been the offspring of a brute in human form, or subjected to thousand ills, from which poor nature shrinks.

I muse with gratitude to Him, the Author of my being, whilst yet I trace thy gentle hand in leading me, a giddy child. I see thy watchful eye; I muse upon the deep solicitude which thou didst manifest on my behalf. Approaching boyhood-beginning now to show the seeds of disobedience-I see thee take my hand, admonish, and again behold thee bow the knee, a suppliant for thy boy!

And now, a youth, I take my leave of home-the scene of early years. I stand and listen yet again to thy fond admonitions; yes, upon the eve of my departure, I hear thee say, as though it were but yesterday-“We are clear of your blood." And again I wave adieu as I see thee stand, with tearful eye, among the little group assembled on the shore whereon we parted.

Mother! thy prayers were heard! A gracious eye watched o'er me; and though that parting scene was dark, and unnumbered evils seemed as though they would prevail, yet how wisely did our bounteous Benefactor order all! Twenty years have rolled away since then, my mother, yet has mercy-boundless mercy-attended every step. Though vicissitude has marked my course, and trial and exercise have been my portion, yet compassions, infinite in number and degree, have ever been reserved for times of danger and necessity. And now, my mother, I would turn to contemplate thyself! But a brief period, and thou wast here a dweller in a house of clay! I see its outward form. This picture brings thee to my recollection. Each feature is thine

own, my mother!-yes, it is thine own familiar face; it, too, bears marks of anxious" musings." But, my mother, all has ended well with thee. Thou didst dread "the cloud," I know. It approached with threatening. But see its issue. Did not Jehovah graciously fulfil his word, notwithstanding thy timidity? Who attended thee in early life? Who marked thy future course, and guided every step? Did not He, the Lord? And now arrived to hoary hairs-weak nature drooping to whom canst thou be looking but to Him? Cheer up, my mother-all is well. Jehovah will be faithful, though thou fearest. He'll crown thee yet with joy.

Ah! now the mind gives way; reason resigns her post; yet 'tis well, my mother! Mercy-rich mercy-mingles with the dispensation. It has brought us to resign thee at His bidding who has need of thee. One interval of reasonyes, He gives it--and thine heart-thine eye-are manifestly upward; thanks to His name! We feared it not, yet 'tis pleasing in remembrance. Thy parting words—that outstretched hand-one long yet brief adieu!—is grateful, and we part to meet again !"

The German Interpreter; or. Original Conversations in English and German on every topic useful to the Traveller. By J. C. MOORE. THIS little work is well adapted, both to aid the Englishman in the study of the German, and to be of great service to him in travelling in Germany, The page is arranged into three columns. The first gives the English of the phrases most in use among travellers in a foreign land; the second gives the German of the same phrases; and the third the way in which the German is pronounced. The "German Interpreter" will be found a most serviceable pocket companion to every Englishman travelling through that country.

Chapters on Working People; how to eleviate their morals, and to improve their social condition. By BENJAMIN LOVE, author of "the Hand Book of Manchester."

THIS little pamphlet is written with a good intention, and contains some useful suggestions, which we trust will meet due consideration from the employers and the employed. The following observations respecting the desirableness of cultivating a more fervent and friendly intercourse between the masters' and their men, will not, we trust, be without their effect:

"A GREAT obstacle to the people's improvement is the want of free intercourse, and, consequently, the want of sympathy, between employers and the employed. This is an evil deeply to be deplored; and as the plan we purpose to submit will tend to remedy it, we beg to offer a few remarks in connexion with the subject.

"Though few persons are now to be found who entertain the feudal notion, that servants are a class whose natural lot it is to toil, and at times to suffer deprivation; yet it is a fact, that many employers are purely indifferent about the welfare of their dependants.

"It may be remarked, that the support afforded by employers to charitable institutions, is evidence that they do, indirectly, sympathize with the labouring population. This, however, is not sufficient. Besides, the existence of charitable institutions appears, in some cases, to be injurious to the welfare of the labouring population; and is there not reason to believe that subscriptions to charities are frequently substituted for personal exertions in behalf of the needy? "Several hundreds of work-people are employed in a factory. They are regarded as intelligent, dexterous machines, which fit in, and work with, those made of wood or iron. To yoke them together, and to extract from both the greatest aggregate of work at the smallest possible cost, is regarded as an object worthy the utmost consideration. At the end of a week's labour, the intelligent machines are paid the wages they have earned, and are lost sight of until the time arrives when the entire machinery is again put in motion. In the mean time, of the insensate machinery prodigious care is taken; but what becomes of the intelligent machines? How much thought is bestowed on these! A week's labour receives a week's wages-it is all the claim that can be preferred against the master-and then the immortal mind of the intelligent machine, after a week's compression amid shafts of iron, enveloped in steam and smoke, is left to rebound in any direction that accident may direct.

"How powerful for good might be the influence of an employer! We believe that, in some cases, this influence is not exercised, purely from the want of a field in which it might be displayed; whilst, in other cases, the thanklessness, ingratitude, and impertinence of many of the labouring population, check every disposition to sympathy, and eventually destroy it.

"Too often the want of sympathy referred to is fully reflected by the working people. They have no feeling in common with their employers: they regard them as oppressors. Heuce mistrust arises; and this feeling retards and obstructs sincere efforts made at times for the improvement of the labouring population."

Theory of the Fine Arts. An Introductory Lecture, delivered in the Classical Theatre of King's College, London. By WILLIAM DYCE, M.A., Professor of the Theory of the Fine Arts to the College.

This Lecture was delivered on the 24th of last May. It is, for the most part, too technical for the general reader; but to the scientific mind, it will possess no ordinary interest. On the subject of music, considered as a science, Professor Dyce makes the following remarks :—

"When I spoke of a science of the Fine Arts, what was the notion suggested by the term? If the question, whether there could be any such science, were proposed to the majority of educated persons, what answer should we receive? I suppose it would amount to this: that there is a science of music, and, perhaps, also of architecture; but that for the rest, it is uncertain how the case stands.

"Now, this answer is doubly erroneous. In the first place, it is not true that there is a science of music,-such as it is currently supposed to be,-in any other sense than there is a science of painting, architecture, or sculpture; and in the second place, the science of Fine Art, if there be such a science, must have for its object, not those branches of physical or mathematical science which are employed in a secondary way by artists in the production of their works, but that which constitutes the essence of Fine Art, viz., beauty, character, action, passion, sentiment. So that, in truth, the science is based on the very characteristic of art, which, at first, may seem to exclude it from the domain of science altogether.

"Some of you, perhaps, who are accustomed to the current notion, that music is both a science and an art, will have been startled by my calling its accuracy in question. If, you will say, music has not some superior prerogative, why does it occupy a place in the platform of university education? Why do its professors obtain degrees which place them on a par with members of the learned professions? Does not this proceed on the supposition that music has something more dignified, more scientific about it than other fine arts?

"It is quite true that by the ancient Greeks and by the writers of the middle ages, music was termed a science; but their reasons for doing so would in these days be reckoned very questionable. So little had the ancient science to do with the practice of the art, that, if we may believe Aristoxenus, the only author among the Greeks who wrote as a practical musician, the doctrines of the theorists were not only useless in practice, but had no more relation to music, as an art, than they had to grammar, rhetoric, astronomy, poetry, painting, or architecture. The science, in fact, bore the name of music, because the principles of which it consisted were derived, or rather were supposed to be derived, from the consonance and dissonance of musical sounds; but the principles themselves were believed to be of universal application, and in that view constituted, so far as they went, the theory of all the arts; and Dr. Burney, indeed, confesses that if music were formerly reckoned to be a science, it was on grounds which, if they are not now-a-days altogether exploded, are at least totally distinct from those on which it is now supposed to rest its claims. The present science, which deals with the laws of the vibrations of sonorous bodies, the transmission and reflection of sound, the generation of the common chord by a single sound, and other subjects included under acoustics and harmonics,

did not come into being until music as an art may be said to have arrived at perfection. The present systemu of harmony and counterpoint had been discovered and acted upon by musicians two centuries at least before the physical laws on which it is based were demonstrated scientifically.

"But if the science of music be such as I have described, then there is a science of painting of an equally abstruse character. What shall we say, for example, of optics, of the laws of the production of colours, of the transmission and reflection of light, of perspective and the casting of shadows,—all of which the painter, by mere necessity, is forced to comply with? If the relation of the art of music to one branch of physics gives it the rank of a science,—if it may lay claim to that branch as its peculiar science,-much more may architecture, which works by the aid of so many of the physical sciences, lay claim to a similar privilege.

"The truth is, that every imitative art, since it addresses itself to us through the senses, necessarily employs sensible means and materials of imitation, which, belonging to some part of the natural world, are included, according to their kind, in some branch or other of physics. And this is true whether the imitation be accomplished by the use of natural powers or materials, or by a fictitious resemblance. In music, the material employed is sound-not a figment or a symbol agreed upon to simplify sound-not an imitation of sound, but sound itself; which is moulded to the will and fancy of the composer. So also the architect employs in his art materials provided by nature, and subject to the laws which govern the various productions of nature employed for architectural uses."

Lachrymæ Ecclesiæ. The Anglican Reformed Church and her Clergy, in the days of their destitution and suffering during the Great Rebellion in the seventeenth century. By the Rev. GEORGE WYATT, LL. B. F. S. A. Rector of Burghwallis, Doncaster.

THIS volume is well written, and the author displays considerable research in its preparation; but one great blemish in it is, the tractarian spirit which pervades it throughout. The author has no charity for those beyond the pale of the Church. It is melancholy to see a man of cultivated mind, and the teacher of a religion, whose very essence is charity, thus resigning himself to the sway of such unamiable feelings. The following is a fair specimen of the manner in which the book is written :

"There were also two other persons, John Bastwick and Henry Burton, who, though not so distinguished as Prynne for learning and intellect, were yet equally so for restless and rancorous enmity against the hierarchy. Bastwick was a physician, and the language he employs in some of his publications against the prelacy can hardly be surpassed, in its scurrility and blasphemy, by any other writer. Henry Burton was-proh dolor!-a clergyman of the Church of England. Disappointed ambition exasperated this hot-brained fanatic, and he joined with Prynne and Bastwick in all their furious ravings and their insolent calumnies against the Church. On reading even the titles of some of their effusions, one cannot but be amused, in these days of more courtly taste, with their quaint inventions, whilst one is also disgusted with the teeth-gnashing ribaldry of their language. At length however, popular as they were--and Pryane immensely so-with the general multitude, the penalties of the law were inflicted upon them. Heavy fines, long imprisonment, and even bodily tortures were their lot. Prynne was condemned to the pillory, and to have his ears cut off, a sentence severe enough in itself, but hardly too severe for the foulness and mischief of his offences. He underwent it with firmness; nor were these rebellious spirits indeed to be so easily put down. They all bore their ills exultingly, and with a buoyancy of heart worthy of a better cause."