The Sun.
London, England, 1853-03-17 00:00:00

MARKET NEWS-(THIS DAY.)

GENERAL AVERAG: PRICES OF BRITISH CORN
For the Week ended March 17,1'" 3, made up from the Returns of the
Inspectors in the different Cit and Towns in England and Wale.
per Imperial Quarter.
WHEAT. IBARLEY. C 41`6. I 1
RYE. BEANS. 1 PEAS.
145 s 8d 31s 9d irls 6cll 303 9d I 24s 4d 22s Li
DUTIES ON FOREIGN CORN.
WHEATOd
15 Oil . I BARLEY.
Is OATOd 3. I
Is RYE
IsOd . I REANSOd . 1
16 Is Od
QUANTITIES OF GRAIN SOLD LAST WEEK.
Wheat, 103,145; Barley, 69,093; Oats, 24,566; Rye, 122; Beans,
8,886; Peas, 2,495 quarters.

HAY MARKETS.
SMITIIFIELD.—Meadow hay, 3/ Gs to 4/ 12s • clover
ditto, 4/ 05 to 5/ 5s ; and straw, 1/ 5s to 1/ 14s per load.
Trade dull, and prices rather lower.
CUMBERLAND.—Meadow hay, 31 3s to 4/ 15s ' • clover
ditto, 4/ Os to Si Os ; and straw, 1/ 7s to
it 16s per load.
Supply good, and trade dull.
WHITECHAPa.—Meadow hay, 3/ Os to
1/ 413 s / 12s ; clover
ditto, 4/ Os to 5/ 5s ; and straw, il/
demand.
63 to perA.
A full average supply, and a slugsh

MEAT MARKETS.
NRWGATR AND LEADENHALL.—The general demand
at this market to-day rulcd steady, at lull prices.—
Beef, 2s 4d to 3s 6d ; Mutton, 3s 6d to 45 6d ; Veal, 35 2d
to 4s 4d ; Pork, 2s Gd to 4s per Bibs, by the carcase.
SO,THALL, MARCH 16.—The supply of stock on offer
was very moderate, yet the general demand was sluggish,
with little alteration :—Beei; 2s 8d to 45 Od ; Mutton,
3s Gd to 5s Od ; Veal, 3s 4d to 45 2d ; pork, 3s Od to 3s 8d
per 81bs, to sink the offal.
RomFoRD, MALCH 16.—Our market to-day has been
tolerably firm, a- the following are the quotations :
follows Beef,E Quarter
W from
Bdmese2At
fererr
10;mitto53s
—41:08As0 (41
t,l
)2;
82td5ocs.
kema Mutton,mcuhtot.moved
Mutton,
3d,5 8d t o 5s 2d;
Veal, 3s 4d to 4s 2d ; Pork, 3s Ocl to 3s 10d per Blbs.
L
ES,
l
s
Pork, 3s 2d to 3s 8d per Bibs. 4olffOdsllytoowss,2dal

TUE EAST INDIA COMPANY.—III compliance with a
requisition, signed by about 100 of the leading mercan-
tile firms of the town, the Mayor of Manchester has
convened a meeting of bankers, merchants, and manu-
facturers of the borough, to be held on Tuesday next, to
consider what suggestions that community ought to make
to the Government or to Parliament for the better deve-
lopment of the resources of British India, and the conse-
quent amelioration in the condition of the people.

LITERATUBE.

Harry Muir. By the author of " Adam Gneme,'
&e. 3 vols. Hurst and Blackett.

ll
s
e
Nswdadbsdt
pthcieuiwaffirotpralsti
eitfuifetictu
Scottish
esrseloitshsteotfi
eepsomahahnp.
opnenfialteoordidnrnsotwi
lesisndetuci
powerfully-delineated
faeur
shl,eaettitomntEhrilwthtdoerooyeenndar_uoeffiuhqcdfn
astocoeeutiwcennorriai
idotmiezctonh:teeofhnesi,
and
:seencoaattsseofnadsne:
meindddafnenfda
smragdtoi
rsmer:nesrsivargitto,
scenery,
fashion,
dramatis
wh,neu•
reka.:daiasti
tny,epnsi
stdidoeghwmNifraecr)
okepletaoo:
iosrol
din
smfesueunmwdonaoit
theta country
is
very ably drawn, from the little Maggie Macgillivrallelwcebyrtneoyee,t:
dragon
rt
ahge herou
had mother's
whoost
eh
guardedeene s
generations
doo rt
h en
familiar
h pass
a sunlight,ssaway.
scenesay.
from
ro‘
oc tml Pe
nigegeud'
Harry Muir, the nominal hero, is only a secondary
personage in the tale--the results of his doings are
features of the work, and the effects he causes
ea cr tt-hma at tot ewr h foomr rt ehme afir
first;
t; bpul
at it
e ism uh
si
ts
feoldrmesttshisetesruMbj
be given. Her vigorous mind could well have borne
her family through every trouble—but it was not so
to be. She had to bear the heaviest burden this
life can bring, to remain passive when burning for
action, to let things take their course of evil, when
she felt that by her exertions they might be turned
into a safe and Lecure channel. In this character
the authoress achieves a signal triumph. Many
may rush on in the struggles of life and fall or win,
bttwhhuheetoi
rdi
etua isust
,son
feet,
eatenhl
and yet
a few who can
their
hgderoe
iasorhneesidtn
wishes
unfailing
control
da
ssi:i re
crumbleedn themselves,
dgothbw,enuheaoinptteh
and courage. Their heart's desire, their soul's am-
bition, is gone; it has become worse than dead—but
the spirit will not yield ; it resists to the end.
Martha is shown like this. At first she rebelled
against her fate, and would
not bend to circum-
tances; but time, that shattered her bright hopes, and
cast a shade over her young life, brought wisdom
age might have envied, and faith martyrs might have
emulated. She is made pleasing in her manners,
which is not often seen in those cast in her mould :
her way of yielding the precedence to her
young sister-in-law (quite a• child in heii ways,)
while conscious herself of surpassing other
women in intellect, is very graceful and
touching. Rose and Violet are charming girls,
and afford a relief to the sombre foreground of the
picture. Cuthbert Charteris, with his determined
and resolute conduct, is welcome after the vacil-
lating and wayward Harry. The indiscriminating
multitude are always led away by such men as
make others suffer the
sbeuwthtohefeeflart-hseeelienasgtand wise-judging know
tilhaartrytho;
most, and that those who laugh in trouble and
revel, without a care for the day, are clouding others'
sunshine, and laying up in store many a sad mor-
row for those connected with them. An admirable
lesson is here giveA for those unversed in such
knowledge. No one is sent here to smile and enjoy
himself, but to promote the welfare, and, if possible,
the happiness of others. Harry never cared for
his wife, his children, his three sisters, his friends,
his home, or his fortunes. All might go to wreck
and ruin, provided he was amused—not that he
was bad-hearted or evil-disposed by nature. But
what is nature without grace, and what good worth
mentioning is there in a man who cannot refuse
wrong or trampling under his feetthc snares of those
he really despises? One point is very natural:
Harry, so yielding abroad, was a very despot when
crossed at home. He exerted his authority as mas-
ter of the house, but he could never be the master
of himself. With his transitory physical advan-
tages, with health and strength buoying him up,
he felt himself as king and lord of all, never caring
or heeding for that inward power stronger than
armed hosts, and " mightiest in the mighty," which
can stand forth unharmed in the midst of ill, meet
the seducing tempters face to face, and resist and
overcome them. As little Violet said in her precocious
reflections, "Is it all the fault of those who lead
away ? Are not people themselves to blame for being
led away ?" And again, " You never talk of folks
being led away for good." Many are the wise say-
ings of Martha in the long, wearying season of
trouble which those wretched sisters had to endure.
When Rose said her heart was breaking, Agnes
(the miserable wife) exclaimed it would kill her.
Martha, whose feelings for Harry, whom she had
watched tended and taught from infancy—combined
a mother's'care, a sister's sympathy, and a wife's de-
votion, faltered not—her love was immortal in its
depth and height, its foundation sunk far below
earth's annoyances, its fervour exalted her above
time and space, and sought the seventh heaven.
Thus she entreated them :

" It must not kill you. Bairns, hear me ; you must
let nothing kill you, nothing crush you, even in your
innocent hearts, till God sends the messenger that will
not be gainsaid. Now it is coming—may be ruin, may be
destruction, certain distress and anguish. But the end
is coming which God knows ; you must not pine, you
must not weep, nor waste your strength with mourning.
Bairns, we have to wait, and be ready and strong, to
meet it when it comes. This is what we have to do."
The end was long appearing, but it came all too
soon. Then did the heroic sister complete her per-
fect work, perfect as far as earth will allow, for it
bore the stamp of Heaven, and spoke of the life to
come. " To live in hearts we leave behind is not
to die." Martha knew this ; but the question is,
How do we live in those hearts ? Many blamed,
some despised, her brother. She had to reverse
that blame, to change that feeling, and she suc-
ceeded. As far as the world outside and his home
were concerned, he had only been extravagant ; he
had laid down good plans, but not carried them
out. Two thought 9 suggest themselves to
.the
mind at the conclusion of this work. A warning
is held out, a promise is given. To all such as
Harry ruin is rear. Youth and strength are as
shadows flying away at a breath ; riches, talents,
and honours make themselves wings and are gone ;
but the memory of the just is sacred ; in his home
it is revered as a househ.ld god—in his land it is
blessed by the generations of his countrymen ; and
for those like to Mariam, it is shown that we are not
to think we can be all we like or seek, although
we crush selfishness and cast away folly. The
ambition of good bocome^ an evil, unless we follow
instead of leading. In the rah assigned to us
there may the endeavours soar, but it is not right
or reasonable to mark out a course the fancy de-
sires, and, because suczess do:" not smile, call the
world a desert, full of vanity and vexation of spirit.
Sorrowful was Martha most of the days of the years
of her sojourn, but her sorrow turned at last to
joy—not the wild zest of young hopes, but the
tutored thanksgiving of a disciplined heart. Vain
were her talents when exercised in her own way—
her life was nothing, her brother's death struck
terror to her hopes. It was not till yielding to the
will of Him who gave the talents that she triumphed.
She lifted up her eyes to the heavens, where she
trusted her departed treasure had passed, before
on earth she found peace. In the following pas-
sages will be shown the great force of the author in
describing her characters :—Alexander Muir was an
excellent old man, in whom age had no power
to chill his affections to God and man, and
who was young again in his love to the rising race
around him.
The conclusion, when Martha looks out by moon-
light on the scene sacred to the memory of sorro
passed away, sweet in the blessedness of hopes
fulfilled, and shining in the glory of promises in
store, is surpassingly imagined. Her long day of
work over, at evening tide she rested from her
labours ; the glaring noonday of distracting trials
was spent—the calm orb of night, the stars of peace,
shone down upon her suffering heart and soothed
her wearied spirit. With one alteration, to her
might be applied the epitome of Evangeline, " Fair
was she and young when, in hope, began the long
journey, faded was she and old when it ended,"
not in disappointment,
.but in love, that took the
sting from sin and the victory from the grave.
"Alexander Muir was one of those whose end of life
seemed almost as pure as its
.begin -ling. A spirit so
blameless and placid that we might almost think it had
only been sent here, because it is a greater joy to be a
man, and know by certain experiment the wonderful
Mystery of redemption, than to be satisfied with such
knowledge as the sinless in heaven can gain. It is happy
for us amid the dark records of common lives, that here
and there God permits us one such man, born to be
purer than his fellows ; so much lower than the angels,
that the taint of native sin has come with him into the
world—so much higher than they, that the mantle of the
Lord has fallen upon him, and that he stands accepted
in a holiness achieved by the Master and King of all.
Lichened over with the moss of age, in
happy class,
qui e t plac end
herea
and there, live gracious souls of this
Alexander Muir was one." *
"That night, standing on the turret, Martha looks
out upon the lands of Allenders—the lands which her
own labour had cleared of every overpowering burden,
and which the same vigorous and unwearied faculties
shall yet clear of every encumbrance, if it please God.
The moonlight glimmers over the slumbering village of
Maidlin—over the pretty houses of poor Harry's impa-
tient fancy, where Harry's
.labourers now dwell peace-
fully, and know that their improved condition was the
will and purpose of the kindly-remembered dead.
And the little spire of Maidlin Church shoots
up into the sky, guarding the rest of him
whose memory no man dares malign—whose name
has come to honour, and sweet fame, since it shone
-pan that tablet on the wall, and not one wish or pas-
sing project of whose mind, which ever gained expres-
sion in words, remains without fulfilment, or without
endeavour or settled purpose to fulfil ; and Martha's
thoughts turn back—back to her own ambitious youth
and its bitter disappointment—back to the beautiful
dawn Qf Harry's life—to its blight, and to its end. And
this grand resurrection of her buried hopes brings tears
to Martha's eyes, and humility to her full and swelling
heart. God, whose good pleasure it once was to put the
bar of utter powerlessness upon her ambition, has at

last given her to look upon the work of her hands—God,
who did not hear, according to her dimmed apprehen-
sion, those terrible prayers for Harry, which once wrung
her very heart, gave her to see him pass away with
peace and hope at the end, and h•is permitted her—her,
so greedy of good fal-te and honour—to clear and redress
his sullied name • and the angels :..now the deep, un-
speakable humility of thanksgiving which swells in
Martha's heart. So to all despairs, agonies, bitternesses
of the strong heart, which once stormed through them
all, but which God has chastened, exercised, at length
blessed, comes this end. Harvest and seed-time in one
combination, hopes realised and hopes to come, all giv-
ing thanks morning and evening for fair days sent to
them out of the heavens, and sorrow charmed into sweet
repose, and dangei3 kept away. But though Martha's
eyes are blind with tears, and her heart calls upon
Harry—Harry, safe in the strong hand of the Father,
where temptrtion and sor w n reac'i him never more
—the same held rues up in the great strength of joy
and faith, and bleFses God, who knoweth the beginning
from the end—who mak Ai His highway through the
flood and the flame—His highway still, terrible though
it be—who conducts into ',he pleasa ,t places, pnd re-
freshes the failing breast with hope, and the sleep which
He gives to His beloved fell sweet and deep that night
upon the wearied heart of Martha Muir."

Zan ni. By. Sir E. Lui.:.er Lytton._ Cheap Edi-

tion. Chap-ian and Hall.
It is not witout ample reason that the author
of this noble romance ranks it amongst the b;gliest
of his prose works of imagination. Although we
have not failed to recognise under the current of
the fcCon a variety of Typical mennings of very
profound significance, we have no iier been among
the number of those who have resolu::e'y regarded

it as an allegory. It Tre:::e as erroneous to treat it
obdurately as a proclrc.,ion of a simply allegoric
character, as it would be—and in this we follow
the hint contained in the exceedingly suggestive
" Note" appended to the p:eseat volume—to treat
in the same perve"se manre the " Fausi," of
Gathe, or the "Hamlet" of Shaksnere. Indeed, we
cannot altogether adopt as suffic'ent the ingen'ous
Suggestion of the anonymous critic whose explana-
tion of the meaning of " Zanoni" is honoured by
insertion in the reprint before us, and who argues
that the hcro of the story should be conside-f_d as
the incarnat'on (if one might so express it) of Ideal-
ism. Zanoai, the character we mean, and not the
book, is something mo:.o than the symbol of Idea 1.'4111
—just as Faust is so.nething more than the type of
Int3llectual Ambit'on, or as Hardet is son- ojiing
me e than the embodiment of Human Irresolution.
Each, we take it, must rather be rega- ded as a
veni.ahle nycrocosm : a being inspired by p-_-;,-aliar
asr c-i,tions and acting under peculiar circumstances.
Singularly clever though the explanation here
given by some unknown comer entator (" one of our
most eminent living writers," as Sir E. B. Lytton
himself te'ls us in his " Preface"), undoubtedly
is—it is to us, we repeat, altogether unsatisfactory.
Zo,voni, as we have s.,en, may, to a certain extent,
be considered to represent " Idealism," and Mej-
nour " Science," and Viola " Human Instinct,"
and Aidon-ai "Faith," and the Dweller of the
Threshold " Fear," and Nicot "Passion," and
Glyndon " Unsustained Aspiration, and Mervale
" Conventionalism "—but that is very far from all,
there are beyond these inner meanings still un-
penetrated. Nevertheless, although to a consider-
able extent dissatisfied w_th the argument ad-
vanced by the writer of this very curious Appendix,
we must again acknowledge it to be so far ingen'ous
that we are in a manner grateful for its publication.
It may excite in the minds of the more super-
ficial or uncontemplative readers of " Zanoni" a
train of wholesome and elevating speculation. It
may afford them a clue through the labyrinths of its
subtle and mysterious philosophy. During the
Preface to the p. edit'o a, our author takes
o car 'on to remark somew a l earnestly—" I refer
those who do me the honour to read Zanoni '
with more attent'on than is given to ordinary
romance, to the pc3m of King Arthur' for sug-
gestive conjecture into most of the reg'ons of specu-
lative research, affecting the higher and more im-
portant condition of our ultimmte being, which
have engaged the studet 's of immaterial philosophy
in my own age"—a reco-nn enta'ion, by the way,
which, if adopted, must trove noL less pleasurable
than profitable to the strd:nts in this philosophy.
Of the romance, as a work of art, it would be
almost an impertinence in this place to offer any-
thing like a formal analysis. Its beauty has long
since been r' iognised and appreciated. Its fasci-
nation we have all felt, Ceepening and enlarging as
we advanced in the perusal, from thie first wailings
of that w'erd cremona of Pisani to the last hell-
born reverberatiols of that grizzly Reign of Teri Jr
(depicted in such ghastly and. sombre colours to-
wards the close of the narrative), and which may
be said to have only terminated with the yells of
the populace round the guillotine when the axe
descends, and " blackness rushes on the soul of
Maximilian Robespierre." " Zanoni" must be re-
garded as invested with another interest not yet
mentioned, and oue, moreover, of a very remark-
able chart- Ater—that of having tended to popularise
in this con try the otherwise recondite history of
the still not extinct race of the Rosicrucians.

Collected Poetical and Is inatic T 7 .-ki of Sir E.
Bultver Lytton. Vol 11. Chapalan and Hall.

Another volume of this excellent edition of the
Collected Poetical and Dramatic productions of
Sir E. Bulwer Lytton having just appeared, it only
remains to observe that it comprises the first nine
books of " King Arthur," an epic, the beauties of
which we ourselves have already frequently cora-
mc 'ided, after having subjected it as a wort: of art
to the elaborate analysis of impartial criticism.
New graces become apparent on every re-perusal,
an, that, we take it, is a sufficient token of sterling
exk. _thence in either ancient or modern contribu-
tions to literature. A single perusal, however,
will amply satisfy the' mind of every discerning
reader that " King Arthur " is as assuredly one
of the most remarkable of living effusions as it is
undoubtedly and beyond all question our author's
poetic masterpiece.

The Natural Principles of Beauty. By D. R.
Hay, F.R.S.E. Blackwood.
A treatise which, in its ingenuity, not less than
its subject, is exquisitely beautiful. Already, in a
more elaborate production, the anther had ex-
plained how the aesthetic developments of the
human form coincide perfectly with that law of
harmonic ratio which has been allowed to be an
universal law of nature ever since the age of
Pythagoras. Upon this coincidence Mr. Hay has
based a new and very charming system of propor-
tion. He has expounded his system, moreover,
with infinite elaboration. His last splendid volume
will have sufficiently indicated this—the work is
entitled, " The Geometric Beauty of the Human
Figure Defined." His present treatise we take to
be a yet clearer evidence of the correctness of his
views, afforded through the medium of an indivi-
dualised illustration. It can scarcely fail to popu-
larise the system of which the author is the origi-
nator. As the writer himself intimates, at the
outset of his new publi. Ition, the method by which
he has founded upon the law of harmonic ratio a
distinct system of proportion may be readily enough
expounded. " It cor.7:sts in dividing the semi-
circle by 2,3, 5, and 7, and multiples of these
primes, in the same ai:tbmetical progression in
which the monochord spontaneously divides itself
in the production of the harmonics of sound, and
using the angles thus prnduced in applying har-
monic proportion to plane figures, through diagonal
direction instead of vertical and horizontal distance.
By this means," continues Mr. Hay, " divisions by
2,4, &c., give what may be termed, in harmonical
phraseology, tonic angles ; divisions by 3,6, &c.,
dominant angles ; divisions by 5, 10, &c., medi-
ant angles ; and divisions by 7, 14, &c., subtonic
angles." In all this we only recognise another and
very admirable indication of the analogy traceable
between the fine arts—an analogy which has long
since, in various particulars, been more than
suspected. Co:our and sound have long been
felt to possess this analogy, to a degree
that elevates into something more than the
oddly fanciful that remark of the blind man,
that scarlet was like the blare of a trumpet.
Hitherto detected in other quarters, this latent
analogy has now been gracefully traced out by
Mr. Hay, and applied by him to the more inti-
mate association of form and number—according
to the rules which had previously been known
to link number to harmony by a series of
symmetrical proportions. Besides the more com-
prehensive production already alluded to as
having emanated from the same hand, there
have appeared various others, all tending to
establish the author's really exquisite Theory
u rook
eur r g
eht a
of the Beautiful in Form. This theory, as he him-
self reminds us in the preface to the elegant pamph-
let here submitted to criticism, " is applicable
to every species of formative art, from an architec-
tural structure to the meanest household utensil."
He has deemed it advisable, however, to restrict
its application through the present treatise to the
structure of the Human Figure. Even here he
has still further restricted himself—and, let us
add, we cannot but think judiciously—to the
analysis of the Female Figure alone. The
argument is illustrated by four engravings, besides
a frontispiece. To quote once more the words of
was
re or
thee o f
—lt
t hasproportional
direc-
tions t
beenr
the author—" Here an attempt has been made to
prove that the mind is capable, through the eye,
beauty, by seizing on the prominent points of an
ot these."
object,
s ejudgingFurthermore, fo nr,he symmetry, o
bv
areers relative
and inquiring
ons which the other points occupy as seen from
made to appear that the highest standard of sym-
metry, so estimated, is deduced from su the •
npi est
law that could hare been conceived--the law that

the angles of direction must all bear to some fixed
angle the same simple relation which the different
tones in a chord of music bear to the fundamental
note—that is, relations expressed arithmetically
by the smallest natural numbers. Briefly, it is here
proved, " that man, the image of his Maker, has
even in his low estate a frame based on the type of
the most perfectly conceivable symmetry." By
founding (if we may so phrase it) this noble theory,
Mr. Hay has covered his name with distinction,
and has laid the basis, we conceive, of no ephe-
meral 'reputation. By illustrating it anew through
the medium of this graceful treatise, he has con-
ferred a real boon upon the community, for he has
afforded the public another opportunity of follow-
ing the golden rule of the poet—by looking through
the holy and awful mystery of Creation to the
holier, and yet more awful, mystery of Omnipo-
tence.

The Boy-Hunters. By Captain Mayne Reid.
Bogue.

A companion volume has here been produced to
that charming story of the " Desert Home," which
we took occasion to commend in the strongest
terms—as it eminently well deserved—at the time
of its first appearance. The present narrative,llike
its predecessor, is avowedly written for children,
and is designed, as all such works should be, to
convey instruction in the very process of creating
amusement. Captain Mayne Reid has already
shown in a remarkable manner his skill as a writer
of fiction. His two earlier effusions, the animated
and popular " Rifle Rangers," but, still more, the
enthralling and picturesque " Scalp Hunters"—a
production, by the way, that may be regarded as
bearing to the North American Prairies the same
kind of relation that Herman Melville's exquisite
" Typee" bears to the South Sea Archipelago—
revealed no ordinary powers of originality as a
fabulist or story-teller on the part of our new
literary adventurer. This originality we did not
fail at once to recognise ; and we have a gratifying
remembrance that we were about the first to assert
that Captain Mayne Reid had displayed merits as
a writer such as augured admirably for his futur
performance. We were not tardy in proclaiming
this to be our conscientious conviction as re-
viewers. Nor have we been disappointed in
our anticipations. Without attempting any very
extravagant enterprise, our author has endea-
voured to extend his popularity since that
period, and in doing this he has displayed merits
which in his regard we had not even conjectured.
Aspiring to charm the imagination of childhood by
the description of fanciful incidents, and of ficti-
tious characters, he has shown very unusual re-
sources of invention—but, more than this, an inti-
mate and enviable knowledge of nature, both
animate and inanimate. These capacities, presented
to our notice for the first time by Captain Mayne
Reid in his " Desert Home," have been yet more
strikingly developed in his new volume, entitled
" The Boy Hunters." Let us acknowledge, how-
ever, at once, that we cannot regard the latter to
be in any degree comparable to the former simply
as a work of imagination. It possesses none of its
peculiar and alluring fascination. It retains not a
vestige of that charm which led one on from page
to page, from chapterto chapter, through the whole
history of the lost family in the wilderness. It re-
calls to mind no sort of associating recollection of
the famous " Swiss Family Robinson"—much less
does it revive our early and loving remembrance of
our inimitable Defoe's masterpiece. Unlike the
" Desert Home" in these respects, this new tale of
" The Boy Hunters" bears more of an analogy to
" Sandford and Merton" than to the incomparable
" Robinson Crusoe." It teaches by example. It
its crowded, if not with " wise saws," at any rate
with " modern instances" in abundance. The drift
of the narrative may be very readily indicated, and
from this the character of the whole work may be
at once understood. We are taken first of all to
Point Coupee, about three hundred miles up the
longest river in the world—starting from its mouth
or delta—the river Mississippi. Here we are intro-
troduced to a farm settlement belonging to a
Frenchman named Landi, one of Napoleon's
old soldiers, a colonel of chasseurs, who,
on the downfall of the Emperor, has emigrated
to this region of the globe, accompanied by his
three children. Colonel Landi is presented to the
reader at once in his true character—now that his
military propensities have, by the misfortunes of
his hero-idol, been denied any further development
—namely, in the character of a Hunter Naturalist.
Besides his three sons, the old Colonel has another
companion—Hugot, a male domestic, formerly one
of the soldiers in his regiment, now his attached
and devoted adherent. With neither of these,
however, has the story much to do—with neither
master nor man have we much interest, our atten-

tion being from the very outset almost exclusively
restricted to the sayings and doings of Colonel
Landi's three children. They set forth together at
the commencement of the book upon an adventure
which does not terminate until-the very conclusion
of the narrative. That adventure consists in the
discovery and capture of a white buffalo—the skin
of which, as a rare curiosity, Colonel Landi has
been requested, by an autograph letter from Europe,
to send to his friend Charles Lucien, Prince of
Musignano —in alluding to whose merits, as a
naturalist, our author says, to our mind drolly
enough, " Not all the Bonapartes have been bad"
—as naive an expression of intolerance towards
the imperial race as a body, as even Walter
Savage Landor himself would desire. Returning,
however, to the purport of the present volume, it
may be repeated, that, to gratify Prince Lucien
with a surprise, by sending him one of those white
skins which he has almost defied his friend to pro-
cure—they being regarded as scarcely less fabulous
and unprocurable than the plumage of a phoenix
or the horn of a unicorn—Colonel Landi resolves
to send his three young sons out on an ex-
pedition of research into the buffalo-wilder-
ness. A wooden leg, won in the wars, pre-
vents him from going himself in quest of the
desired booty. Hugot again must stop at Point
Con* with his beloved master, his old Colonel.
There consequently remains no alternative. The
boys must depart—and they go accordingly—though
not until after being provided with all desirable
equipments. The book recounts to us—and in this
lies its attraction—their various adventures. First
of all, however, we are made acquainted with them
individually—the writer describing them very cle-
verly, and with very agreeable niceness of discrimi-
nation. Basil is the eldest, a black-haired stripling
of seventeen, a " mighty hunter" like one of old,
the true " son of his father" in blood, and born a
Corsican. Lucien is the second, a youth fair-haired
and delicate (like his mother, who was a " blonde,"
and one of the Basques), ever busy with his book
when he is not himself making personal researches
after knowledge, a student devoted to natural his-
tory of the sciences comprised in which botany
and geology are his favourites. Francois, a curly-
haired urchin, is the youngest, and is described by
the author as quick-witted, " merry to madness,
, &c.—in short, more than any of them, a French-
man. These are the three " Boy Hunters," who
start upon the expedition in search of a white buf-
falo, and in the course of which search they en-
counter all sorts of interesting adventures. Of
course, they obtain the coveted prize in the end,
but not until after they have passed through nu-
merous hairbreadth 'stapes and become involved in
a series of enthralling difficulties. It must not be
forgotten that besides the children of Colonel Landi,
there are four other characters of some interest,
who participate in these difficulties and adventures.
These are, of course, the beasts of burden. Basil's
horse, which is a half-Arab, is known as " Black
Hawk." Lucien's is a sober, quiet cob, named
very appropriately "Le Bourgeois." Francois',
like himself, a little skittish creature, more hke a
pony in size than a horse, though he is a full-grown
horse too, being one of the fiery breed of the mus-
tangs, is called "Le Chat." Besides these, there
is the she-mule, " wiry and wicked as any of its
race," employed to carry the tent, the provisions,
the implements, the utensils, &c., a true-bred
Mexican mule, designated " Jeannette." Such are
the members f the little party which sets out upon
this eccentric expedition. Basil on Black Hawk—
Lucien on Le Bourgeois—Francois on Le Chat—
and clattering after them the poor mule Jeannette.
But no, there is yet another creature to complete
the group, a noble dog—" A bloodhound with the
cross of a mastiff "—Marengo. So they jog forth
on their adventures. Exceedingly unlike angels'
visits in these as in all other respects, these same
adventurers are neither " few" nor " far between."
On the contrary, they are so startling and novel of
their kind, and follow each other in such rapid suc-
cession, that the attention of the reader is kept in
continued state of suspense and wondering
excite
ment. Throughout the whole story Captain Mayne
Reid shows a delightful familiarity with the
animate and inanimate marvels
of the great
North American Continent.
its He reveals an in-
timate acquaintance with fauna and its
flora, and "while undertaking
as he himself
respon-
sibility for the truth of his Story, no
his preface,
"theobserves author of the Buy
Hunters claims
claims consideration for the truthfulness
of the materials out of which it is constructed."
Several times during the
he takes occasion course of the narrative,
to exress his mitigated
most unmitigated
contempt and detestation to
call
your for what he is pleased
Closet Naturalists. Against this, we
must protest with all the force of conviction, and
in no _
measured language. Against all these passages
h treason,
we must protest, against as a spe
cies of lug
to some among the noblest pioneers in knowledge in
• st all this, in
the science of Natural History! Agaill flagrant
as against a very
fact, we must protest, bl
de No one can poem
and very heinous ingratitu •
admirable
h d
he hig
admire more than we do t

labours of such a man as Audubon, as Captain
Mayne Reid might have called him, a type of your
out-of-door naturalist. But we should conceive it
to be disgraceful and ungrateful on our part to
endeavour to exalt the reputation of such men as
Audubon, by depreciating the value of the fame
acquired by men whom our author has been pleased
to sneer at, as your Closet Naturalists. Who
are those men ? Why, such men as Buffon, and
Olivier, and Linnaeus. Happily, the genius of those
three illustrious men has not remained until nowadays
iu order to be demonstrated. Every educated man
knows the scope andvalue of theirgreat labours.
i It
cannot soon be forgotten that until the time of
.
meus there was a bewildering chaos in oul• deasof
the whole vegetable kingdom. It cannot speedily
be lost to recollection that Baron Crier may be
said with peculiar truth to have "created a soul
under the ribs of death," and to have evoked from
a world of dry bones a vital and vivifying philoso-
phy. Beyond all, it cannot be passed by as unde-
serving our especial remembrance that it was Buf-
fon who first conceived the notion of becoming the
historian of the animal world, and that to that no-
tion. we owe the existence of a work unsurpassed
in the eloquent felicity of its descriptions, and
which must ever be classed—what though there
wore a hundred thousand Audubons—among the
treasures of the earth's literature. Here it is, we
conceive, that lies the only blemish in the present
narrative. In its regard we cannot altogether ac-
quit the author of the charge—which we might find
it difficult to conjecture—of either self-sufficiency
or of affectation. We are fain to regard it as the
latter. However this may be, in all other respects
the book has proved to us eminently delightful.
Several of its most surprising incidents have been
illustrated by the pencil of William Harvey—whose
embellishments to the tale number a dozen alto-
gether. As the frontispiece, we find the curious
sketch of an ingenious portion of the narrative,
entitled " The Chain of Destruction," the links of
which are formed by the tarantula killing
.the
humming bird, and the the chamelion tarantula,
and the scorpion lizard the chamelion, and the
snake the scorpion lizard, and the kite the snake,
and the eagle the kite and—last link of all—Basil
the eagle. Although, of course, nothing compar-
able to his " Scalp Hunters," or to his " Rifle
Rangers " being, in fact, of a less pretentious cha-
racter, the " Boy Hunters," scarcely less than
those more important productions, and scarcely less
than the more alluring " Desert Home," reveals on
the part of its author, the keenest observation of
Nature, and a really delightful vivacity of imagi-
nation.