seeking occasions of romantic display. In her filial obedience, in her firm resistance of all temptations to cupidity, in her counteraction of Notwood's schemes, she acts the part of a composed and courageous female. Julian and she are are devoted to each other. The progress of their love is well expressed, though there is frequently too much imagination in their language for such an engrossing passion. Persons are not usually inclined to figurative eloquence under the overwhelming sway of passionate feeling. The heart at such times forgets all intellectual signs of thought, and absorbed with its own violent affections, utters its raptures or sorrows in words of direct significancy. To draw the line between the language of imagination and passion is always difficult, but as a general rule, the former is prompted by nature to recall impressions and revive emotions, rather than to give expression to ideas and sensibilities, that burden the spirit. St. Ille is a lovely creature, a beautiful picture for a work like Onslow, and a worthy object for profound attachment. Julian and she are at last married, and as the reader looks upon their union, and gathers all past scenes around them, he wishes them the full share of happiness promised to faithful love. The other female characters are finely drawn. Julia Armond, a young widow, is an intellectual and romantic woman, with a due share of girlhood balanced by the dignity of widowhood, not one who glides into your heart, but rather seizes it as a kind of made-over property. If she had appeared in a poetic effusion, star beams would probably have clustered arouud her, and cloud-drapery robed her, but in "Onslow," with all her great capacity for fancy and sublimation, is by no means a stranger among scenes, where hearts carry on their involuntary warfare. She appears in but a portion of the volume, and patroness as she is of Julian, tests his affection for St. Ille effectually. Cathena, a fine country-girl of excellent endowments, charming in person and manner, and spirited enough to excite a high degree of respect, moves among the scenes, like a bird, that would prefer to flit among flowers, but has been driven into forest shade, amid tall trees and tangled vines. Mrs. Conway atones for the deficiencies of her husband by her nobleness of mind, with skill to manage and nerve to execute. woman. Kelonah represents the best traits of an Indian lia is an instance of practical transmigration-a woman embodied in a dove. She lives to cast soft glances and breathe low heart-tones, in still twilight hours. Early death is part of such a history, for exceeding loveliness carries its destiny with it. She expires beside her lover, Edward Conway. Edir Immerson, who turns out to be the mother of Julian, is a masculine woman, half-sane and half-insane. Nanny Hart will be recognized as a real personage by Southern readers, a wonderful creature in history or fiction. These constitute the prominent female characters. There are too many of them for intense effect. The mind is divided among such a number of fair beings. We feel as we do in a museum; multiplicity weakens attention. The chief actors of our sex are Edward Conway, Major Walden, Geoffry Jarvis, the mineralogist, Dr. Cain, Captain Gant, Clannagan Coldfire, Notwood, Bucklebelt and Timmy Tidder. Our partialities are in favor of Jarvis and Tidder. The character of the mineralogist is the most distinct and earnest one in the group. A scientific enthusaist, bent on his wild project, he is the same man under all circumstances, no exigencies diverting him, no temptations seducing him, so that the reader understands exactly what he will say and do, and feels himself denied the privilege of speculating as to his future course. Julian is his protegé. Cato and Prudence are domestics, and in their faithfulness, illustrate forcibly the devotion to our families, of which the negro is capable. The selection of events from history is judiciously made, while those which are fictitious serve to give scope to the writer and reader. As we followed the author through the windings of the plot, passing from occurrence to occurrence, from field to river, from mansions to huts, from promenades to battles, we again and again felt the thrill, that the heart feels when its passions are aroused. The events at the Bee-Tree and Nanny Hart's, at Tower Rock and Forest Hill, the death of Clannagan, and numerous other incidents, are admirably drawn. And then, the triumph of American arms under General Greene, the achievements of General Sumter, with the rejoicing enthusiasm and prolonged shout, how does the fancy revel and patriotism glow over their rich details! And afterwards the closing scenes, the discovery of Julian as the son of Major Walden, the nuptials of the hero and heroine, the farewell of Jarvis, and the other events that finish this attractive narrative, how pleasantly some, how painfully others, come over the interested mind of the reader! That the work has defects need not be disguised, but they are capable of remedy by its talented author. No one can read it and deny him a clear insight into character, an active poetic sense, a deep sympathy with the struggles of humanity, a fulness of feeling, and a copious inventiveness. If the writer, (Dr. S. C. Oliver,) should dedicate his intellect to this branch of literature, the success of "Onslow" warrants the opinion, that he will be ranked among our best authors. ART. IV.-ITALY. 1. Griffin's Remains. New-York: G. & C. & H. Carvill. 1831. 2. The Athenæum. London. Feb., 1946. 3. The Foreign Quarterly Review. London. Jan., 1845. 4. Letters from Abroad. By MISS SEDGWICK. NewYork: Harper & Brothers. 1841. 5. Letters from Italy. By J. T. HEADLY. Wiley & Putnam. 1845. WHEN We have heard some fanciful story which we would like to believe yet feel strongly tempted to doubt,a story which our vanity will not permit us to imagine is palmed off on us as a hoax,-we look, for a moment, earnestly at the narrator, and, rather interrogatively, exclaim, "Nay, that's a traveller's tale!" Travellers have been famous, from time immemorial, for the fervor of their fancy or the laxity of their truth, and we doubt not that if Noah had kept a log book of his stormy voyage, and read it to his second generation, there would have been incredulous listeners among his rising progeny, even to the story of the olive and the dove. Travellers,―says Shakspeare sarcastically, "Ne'er did lie-though fools alone condemn them." Beaumont and Fletcher, too, in the Coxcomb, have given VOL. X.-NO. 19. S a scene between Nan and Madge, in which the tribe of wayfarers is fairly snubbed : "Sirrah! where is't they say my young master hath been?" asks Nan. "Faith, I know not," replies Madge, "beyond seas, where they are born without noses!" "Jesse bless us!" ejaculates Nan,-"without noses! How do they for handkerchiefs!" This repute for exaggeration is unquestionably not without a basis. Travellers start from home, panting with the lust of novelty. As they are bigoted patriots or dissatisfied citizens, they are inclined to regard the foreign world with disgust or unrestricted delight. Abroad would not be abroad were it not vastly different from at-home; and the standard of its quality must depend on the liberal mind or the narrow prejudice of the voyager. But whether the land he visits is to receive his commendation or his censure, we may ever be confident that the praise or the blame of the tourist will be equally exaggerated. Besides this, "Monsieur traveller must, for a while, lisp and wear strange suits,-disable the benefits of his own country,-get out of love with his nativity, and almost chide God for making him the countenance he has, or one would scarce think he had swam in a gondola." We have thought that it would be a curious subject for readers of our Review to investigate the motives and manners of American travellers in Europe; and, perhaps, that a good result might be gained by observing the contemptible results most generally achieved even by those who neither write nor publish, but content themselves with the social eclât of being travelled men. The causes of this lamentable failure, we believe may be found in the very inadequate education of our youth, in their neglect or want of opportunity to pursue a thorough course of classical studies; in a deplorable self-sufficiency, inherited from their English ancestry, and in their idea that money is as omnipotent abroad as it is at home. These causes, at which we have time merely to hint at present, at once place the majority of our young American travellers beyond the pale of scientific, literary and artistic circles in the old world. They travel to be excited by a continually shifting panorama of the external world, and, consequently, are rarely presented with any other objects of observation than such as are set down in guide books, or may be heard of from valets de place. Palaces, galleries and gardens charm their eyes and excite their astonishment by day, only to give place to the voluptuous scenes of the ballet and the surprising songs of the opera by night. Thus, we find in all the travels of our younger countrymen, the most vapid repetitions of details, the most lavish descriptions of the peasants' dress, the army's drill, the pomp of religious ceremonials, the annoyance of officials, the impurity of continental inns, the princely magnificence of architecture, the gentleness of Raphael and grandeur of Angelo; and, if perchance the traveller has accidentally obtained the entrée of a single saloon, his republican eye is either dazzled by the glittering stars with a bewildered admiration of "the nobility," or his fastidious ears are jarred by horrible dialects and deplorable ignorance. Gossip, scandal and revamped descriptions of scenery and ruins, are thus unsparingly afforded us; but, seldom indeed, do we find our tourists penetrating beyond the exterior, and representing the man of Europe as he is influenced by the social and political institutions of his native country. The effect of this flippancy in Europe, where they are by no means inattentive or uncritical observers of Americans, is to make us suspected, "unsafe" and unwelcome guests; and the results of this imperfect education and motiveless travel are bringing merited contempt on our name and nation. It cannot be said, in just excuse, that we should be treated with peculiar leniency, because, emerging from our old forests and new cities, we are fairly taken by surprise at the mere outside of Europe, and have no time to devote to the intellectual characteristics of the people. The reason is altogether insufficient. We are not, we certainly do not think ourselves, savages. A savage may be surprised, a civilized man must never be. The fact that a thing is, should, at once, be enough to satisfy him, that in God's providence it can be and ought to be. Wonder, therefore, though a laudable excitement of the human energies, should never become their absorbent. It is a part of manliness to be equal to every occasion, and a character of true worth is as much at home the first time it penetrates the golden circle of a court, as it is in the oaken arms of its familiar |