The Portland daily press., 1873-10-28
Flashes of Opinion.

The books herein referred to are published
by Roberts Brothers, and for sale shere By
Bailey & Noyes.
THoREAU THE PoET NATURALIST, by
VIM. Henry Claiming; pp. 256.
Wholesome truth have we here, with a
sprinkle of affectation, and no extravaganza.
Just look at page 10 for example and see how
much honest poetry can be crowded into a
single page of pictorial prose. Original and
vigorous, with q slight leaning toward trans
cendantalism, Thoreau has found counter
part in his editor, for everything but poeti-
cal sense.
LOVE INTHE XIxth CENTURY, by Harriet
W. Preston; PIP. 153. Clever, thoughtful, aud
-unattractive. But why Simply because the
author had a theory in view,which would bear
conjuring with, and being determined to oc-
cupy ground that nobody else had ventured
upon, she has been talking downright COM
mon sense, instead of romance, and calling il
Glove in the XIXth Century," But why
love? 1t is no such thing, though one
wouldn't like to say so above his breath.
Love in cottage it certainly is not, and so
let us call it Love in the School room, or the
Library. Just run your eye over page 130-
131, and say if the picturing is not worthy Of
Thoreau himself.
BED TINE, by Lo use Chandler Moulton.
Capital, fragrant with the .farOr of childhood
not that s'smell of chill dhood in the air.
about which Lowell used to gossip; but the
sincere and hearty flavor of that dilicious
wildwood season of our lives, when every
thing we touch blossoms outright.
STORIES OF INFINITY. By Camille Flam-
marion. Translated by s. r. Crocher. PIP.
2S7.
Learned, perplexing, and characterized
throughout by something of the opium-eater.
Still, there is no fantasy to complain of, nor
any unwhoesome theorizing. 1t is in short
the dream Of Musselman, with the bowl OF
his chibouk dripping perfume, and all the
smoke about him crowded with French Wis
ions.
SoNGs OF THE ISUNLANDs, by Joaquin
Miller. Roberts Brothers. PIP. 212.
1t is really very difficult thing to speak
of this author as he deserves. That he is a
wonderful poet, nobody with thimble-full
of the divine affiatus would think of deny
ing; while his eXtravagances and concelts
are so freduent and startling that mere COM
mon sense will catch his breath sometimes
while stopping to hurrah.
We have nothing to do with the mans life
or character just now; but we cannot help
seeing that if he bad been more like other
people and less of Byron-worshiper, he
would be more attractive in this age of the
world, now that Byron is forgotten-olmost,
or. which amounts to the same thing, only
taken down to be busted now and then at
long intervals. Nevertheless we must not
allow such men to be wholly forgotten, or
overlooked. Like Smolet and Fielding and
Goodwin and Walter Scott and Jane Porter
and Miss Edgeworth and Miss Austin, though
they have bad their day-and will have it
again by and by, they are the lights we
stand by, generation after generation
There's the Vicar of Wakefield, Tom
Jones, Caleb Williams, Undne, and Paul
and Virginia still Burning on, burning on,
by no shadows made tender;;" and the next
generation will find them bursting fortn
anew-our word for it. In short, the "oopgS