The Press. — 1856-02-23 (London, England)

writing. He brings into prominent relief points of mere secondary importance, and slurs over others of high consequence. He arranges his materials badly. He is not sufficiently communicative of " facts and figures " as to the internal state of the armies, their numerical strength at particular intervals, their loss by cholerat and sickness, and so on. He enters at too great length into mere incidenal matters connected with the expedition, and does not do so at the right moment. He is constantly abouring to be picturesque and dramatic, and does not always succeed; and when he does succeed, he overdoes the thing. He puts some of his gravest facts which naturally belong to the text into foot-notes, and thrusts into the text what would have been properly placed in notes At times he is terribly magniloquent; for example, he thus begins his narrative :  The die is cast; the last belief in peace has vanished; the diplomatic relations of France and England with Russia have ceased ; declarations of war are exchanged ; preparations are being made to combat. From all parts troops are marching t3wards the ports at which they are to embark. The breath of battles has passed over the French nation and awakened its ardent and bellicose nature, for this war is a national war, which moves the noblest instincts in the heart of every man and ►n the heart of the natiou! In all parts of France religion calls down from heaven protection on the soldier. Already our vessels cover the Baltic Sea and the Black Sea. The national flag flaunts from the top of the masts; the cannon has thundered before Odessa, etc., etc.  On other occasions he indulges in such bombast as this :  The Sultan smiled for perhaps the first time in his life, for there was France,—warlike France, protecting France ! On others, again, he constructs his sentences in such a slovenly way as to make them ungrammatical and unintelligible. We observe, t" that, not content with dividing his history into books and chapters, he is guilty of the sad affectation of numbering his paragraphs in Roman characters, as if they were of sufficient importance to merit that honour. In so doing, it is true, he imitates Tacitus ; but if be had been wise he would have abstained from a typographical peculiarity which recals to mind the Latin writer; for the difference is wide indeed between Tacitus and Bazancourt.  The Moncton. By Mrs. Moodie. Two Vols. London: Bentley. THIS novel is inferior to the former productions of the same authoress. It is a tale of the present day, but we should hope modern society could hardly permit such characters and incidents as Mrs. Moodie has depicted in these volumes. There is hardly a crime in the annals of the Newgate Calendar which is not to be met with here torgery, seduction, suicide, murder, and parricide are all narrated, to say nothing of the minor offences of destroying church registers, and exchanging children at nurse. We hope for the future Mrs. Moodie will employ her inventive faculties on more pleasing subjects. She has written so many really good works, that we are sorry to see her take up with this Dumas style of composition.  The British Empire; Historical, Biographical, and Geographical. One Vol. London: Grant and Griffith. Is a volume of near a thousand pages, we have com• bined a copious chronology of British history, a biographical dictionary of our most eminent men, and a gazetteer including the names of our Indian and colonial possessions. Each department has been compiled by writers of repute, and in the biographical division the initials of the writer supply fair presumption that great care has been taken to insure correctness. The introductory sketch of British history is written by Professor Creasy, and the chronology is composed by Mr. Neil, Rector of Motfat Academy. The whole compilation is judicious ; it may be made extremely serviceable as a scho3l-book ; and the publishers, we are persuaded, will not lose by their liberality in engaging for each division of the book the services of writers fully competent to the satisfactory fulfilment of the work assigned them.  Men of the Time. One Vol. London : Bogue. A Both" of this kind, unless carefully and conscientiously done, is worse than useless—it is a source of error. The editor seems to have taken the ridiculous biographical sketches written by the late Mr. Phillips for the Crystal Palace as his model. He makes hardly any pretence to care, and none to impartiality. His book is full both of blunders and prejudice. It is in no respect correct, and it has some appearance of being corrupt. Such a work, the reader will readily 

Article type: NotIncident