The New York herald., 1874-10-04
erasping for even q bush, q root or projecting
TELEGRkPHs.

Telegraph and Trayelu The book Is interes ting
in both departments OF its purpose, but especially
so as containing biographical sketch OF Lieut.
enant Colonel Patrick Stewart, than whom 1.-THE
servicen has never had to mourn inner ieilow or
TO regret greater ioss His personal adventures
while engaged In the arduous undertaking twhich
/ he did not live to completely OF continuing the
/ line OF telegraph from the head OF the Persian
Gulf 10 Kurrachee and connecting 1t with india
read like boys book Of fictitious danger and
bravery, and his talents were as versatile as his
disposition was amiable. Sir II. Goldsnd, who
succeeded him and Carried the task to Its success
fui conclusion, tells stewards story ana his
own with much per'pe and sprighthness, ana
brings into many extraordinary, re-
mote, but on the whole Disappointing places;
not only to Zooeides tomb, still vlvdly PIC
turesque In the midst OF the wretchedness and
desolation which have settled down upon the
lana once flushed with wealth and spendor IN the
golden prime OF her great caliphs. The Teneran
is, however more Disappointing than Bagdaa,
and there are no cats at Angora. We knew, long
ago that there are no roses In Cashmere and that
the Bendemeer is as mythical as the Manzanares,
being, IKE il, all channel and no water but we
did believe In the Angora cat. Now IL appears,
when you Tor one on Its supposed native
heath, you are told that you mean the cat OF Lake
Van, and must go thlther TO ind one. Though the
illustrations are not good as those In Mr. Nord-
ho's book, they are highly commendable, and In
many instances really humorous.
ILLUSTRATIONS.
The art OF illustrating books is decidedly looking
up except in the case OF the magazines, which is,
apparently, hopeless.
Mr.. Parker Gilmore, better known in the sport
ing-literary world as "UDique,r Is probably as
great favorlte on your side OF the Atlantic as on
liy I'M VITA oh,a aSu
plains ana pralries, the mountains, lakes aud
rivers OF the Far West. and their creatures in fur,
I'm and feathers. His latest work, s.Forest and
Prairie" IS the best which he has written. 1t Is
full OF interest to the sportsman, the naturalist
and the unscientinc lover OF nature Nothing
liner than his description OF the buffalo runs lex
cept, indeed, Captain Buter's) has taught US
islanders something OF the majestic grandeur OF
the northern Continent OF America and It's myriad
brute inhabitants. Some chapters on deer, In
which he gives beautiful description OF the
Wapiu and Vlrginian species, are most inter-
esting, but the chief novelty OF the book is to
be found in its chapters on BIRDS especially the
innumerable waterfowl OF the great lakes. Mr..
Parker Gilmore writes with all his heart In his
subject and, though not an accomplished or arts.
tic writer, he lends real picturesqueness to his
subject by his heartfelt pleasure IN the lonely
woods.n
FICTION.
Among the noticeable works of1ction at this dull
time which, when people looking forward to
Wilkie Collins beginning again in the Graphic, and
the merest rumor that George Eliot is 'sabOur it,
are seized on with avldty Is one which comes to US
from America. "Lord OF Himself" by Mr.. Francis
Underwood IS very popular, and deserveoly so, no
less ior its charming style and characteristic hu
NOR than for It's pictures OF state
or society always strange to US, and
now completely passed away from among
yourselves. There is very little else to
commend, and the number OF novels which are
only TO be named with contempt is increasing
daily. Some oracuar journalist is al ways ioretel-
turning of the public taste from rivolity in some
other direction but the facts continue obstinately
to contradict the theories OF these sages, and to
belie their VACCINATIONS. No doubt the appetite
for fiction Is too deeply rooted In human nature to
yield to reason, or even to the more potent argu.
ment OF safety; Tor the novels go on coming
outn and people go on reading them and declaring
them not worth reading, forever. An absurd novel
by MIR. Mortimer Collins called .Frances,n has
appeared. 1t Is ridiculous, but readable-or
rather glanceahe-through, If such word coinage
may be allowed-and has many pretty bits Of de.
scripton in the authors sunny, sensuous style.
which achieved an ephemeral success last year, is
called by singularly uDattractive title,
THE SISTERS LAwLEssn
one of those titles which seem studiously in
tended to mislead. 1t may have direct reference
to the story, which may be as tame as the phrase;
1t may have only an Incidental side-winded
bearing upon 1t. In TINS instance the title has
little significance in one sense and mgch in an
other. The story is all about two sisters and their
name is Lawess; but the shocking tameness OF
the name is wholly misrepresented by the style
ard contents of the book. Full of ianlrs, and yet
charming, inconsistent, inartistIc, but readable,
indsed irresistible; slight, and yet startling in
plot; nIppant often, and yet deeply pathetic; idle
and nconsequent in many parts where some con-
scientious painstaking would have made 1t power
full the book Is one TO be read through at SIT
ting, and remembered, not whole, but In
vivid patches aiterward
THE MoNrHIyEs.
Among the current monthly serials there is
nothing or remarkable interest except "The Three
Feathers by Mr.. William Black; in which the
high finish and the quiet humor come quite up to
the general expectation. Mr.. WilKie Collins is
trying an experiment for which 1t is difficult to
forecast success. He Is reprnLing in Temple Bar,
in the lorm OF a dramatic narrative, the once
famous play called 'The Frozen Deep,u which was
acted with such ecldt By the amateur perfor mers
at Tavistock House, under the celebrated man
agement Of Charles Dickens, who acted in it hln-
SELF When produced elsewhere, and without
Dickens, .'The Frozen Deep was not successful,
and III o narrative form, without the grace and
expansion OF q story, and equally wit nout
the rapididy and expression or dialogue,
1t falls very nat indeed. resembling scenario
more than story. The reprint is an innovation
which will hardly find imitators. Mr.. Anthony
Trollope's serial "The way We Live Now" has
fallen so nat that nobody ever hears OF it, and no.
body ever sees it. If it finds it's forlorn way into
the Nude book box, bound for the Mills and the
moors and the seaside, it may perhaps also ind
readers but nobody ever hears anybody mention
1t, and 1t never lies about with curly edges on
tables In clubs and drawing rooms telling Of
competition for .first read" An audacious whisper
is actually In the air that Anthony Trolope is