NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
A WISH REBUKED. 
'V 
lie lifer; 
GOSSIP ABOUT AUTHORS. 
Lange’s Commentaries arc widely known and 
admired. Their author is one of the most dis¬ 
tinguished theologians in Germany. ITo has 
numbered sixty-seven years,—a life-time of se¬ 
vere labor. Born In a peasant's cottage, ho has 
carved his way tip ward by sheer force of will, 
added to talents of t he highest order. Ho served 
many years ns a pastor; then was made Theo¬ 
logical Professor in Zurich, Switzerland; and in 
1S51 he was called to Bonn, where he has since 
remained, uud where the Prussian Crown has 
honored him with the idle of Conslstorial Hath. 
His capacity for work scorns unlimited. His 
own works would make a respectable library. 
They relate to every department, of theological 
literature, and go out, now and then, in an ex¬ 
cursive way, into other Helds—Poetry, Hyrnn- 
olOgy, and the Like. llr. Lvnge lectures ten or 
twelve times a week, preaches occasionally, con¬ 
ducts rigorous examinations of IhcotOgtnaf stu¬ 
dents, yet has ever a spare moment for the social 
amenittes of life, and is one of the most gonial 
and warm-hearted of men. 
Mias MitFORO had the rare pleasure of per¬ 
sonal acquaintance with many of the most, dis¬ 
tinguished men of letters in England, and in her 
correspondence she often gossiped pleasantly 
about them. Once she wrote thus of the chief 
of the Lake School of poets, in n description of 
a certain dinner“ Wokdswoutii was there; 
I sat near him at dinner three following days; 
and had the pleasure of finding my old idolat ry 
of the poet turned Into a warm affection for the 
kind, simple, gracious man.” The author of 
"Gertrude of Wyoming" she did not admire so 
much. “I>o you happen to know Mr. t'A.ue- 
nr.i.i,?" she asked a correspondent. “I dare 
say not. I do. Oh! he is such a pretty, little, 
delicate, lady-like, finical gentleman. He would 
look so well in a mob-cap hemming a pocket- 
handkerchief, or in a crape turban, flirting a 
fan. He is such a doubter—such a hummer and 
hover-such a critical Lord Eldon, so heavy 
and so slow. He was full fifteen years getting 
up the notable fat lure, the Specimens, the whole 
of Ills part of which might have been put intoan 
eighteen-page pamphlet, or two sides of the 
Times newspaper? fifteen years was heat that.” 
Of Barkv Cornwall she said, in 1B20 “The 
poet’s real name is Proctor, a young attorney, 
who feared it. might hurt his practice if he were 
known to follow this ‘Idle trade.' It lias, how¬ 
ever, become very generally known, and poor 
Mr. Proctor la terribly embarrassed with his 
false name.” 
A. Bronson AlOOTT, one of the philosophers 
of Concord, and the author of a unique llttlo 
trbok entitled “Tablets,” bus been giving some 
“Conversations ” at the West. In one of thorn 
lie chatted thus about his daughter Louisa, 
whose “ Little Women " have won thousands of 
friends She began her literary career when a 
child six years old, by keeping a journal, in 
which she jotted down not what she had for 
dinner, nor a description of her last new frock, 
but her thoughts and feelings. A year or two 
later she began to write little stories in til© 
journal, and then dramas, which were performed 
by the young folks In the barn with great ap¬ 
plause. At the ago of thirteen years she, who 
had received her education entirely at home, 
went to a family ms a servant, girl, continuing in 
that capacity for six months, during which time 
she thoroughly learned that portion of life. 
Her next venture was that, of a govorneaa, 
which position consisted in drawing a baby 
about the park and in teaching the little brother 
and sister at home. Meanwhile she continued 
writing little stories for publication, for which 
she received moderate compensation. Next, she 
went in the army as a hospital nurse, and wrote 
home letters which were published in the news¬ 
papers, and subsequently were compiled Into a 
book called Hospital Sketches. She was urged 
to write a book upon girls, and so she took the 
lives aud experiences of herself and three sis¬ 
ters, and from tills produced “ Little Women." 
Mr. Alcott told something about Emerson, 
the other Concord philosopher, also, and that 
what he said Is true everyone who has ever 
heard Ralph Waldo lecture, and lias attempted 
to keep the run of his disconnected sentences, 
will quickly aver, “ Every metaphor,” said Mr. 
Ai.cott, “ that occurs to the Concord Sag© is 
put into his commonplace book. Once in a while 
it occurs to him that he must, have material for 
a winter lecture. Then he looks over his com¬ 
monplace book and finds, perhaps, twenty pages, 
here and there, on separate sheets, on ‘ Beauty.’ 
After having collected these pages together, he 
reads them before a lyeeurn, and those passages 
which arc applauded he forms into an essay, 
which ho sends to his publishers.” 
The Germans are busy literary workers. We 
have spoken of the groat amount of labor per¬ 
formed by Dr. Tange. Another, who accom¬ 
plished a prodigious deal ol" labor with the pen 
was Alexander Von Humboldt. It is said 
that beside his published works he wrote with 
his own hand between 3,000 and 4,000 letters each 
year. 
Dickens has chosen as a title for his new novel, 
the publication of which in parts is soon to be¬ 
gin, “The Mystery of Edwin Drood." Dickens’ 
names arc always something uncommon, and 
picked up in the oddest places imaginable. 
4Vhere did he get “ Drood?” 
Whittier, being asked for an autograph, the 
other day, at oueo complied by penning the fol¬ 
lowing couplet under his signature: 
“ The name is but the shadow, which we find 
Too often larger than the man behind.” 
% IIawtiiokxe's "English Note-Book" will be 
published shortly, we are told, as edited by Mrs. 
Il.uvrnoRNE, whose “Notes in England and 
Italy ” are so charming. It will contain an ac¬ 
count of the author’s consular experience, de¬ 
scriptions of English places, and impressions of 
famous English i>eople. Speaking of Haw¬ 
thorne, It is .-aid that Dean Stan lev read his 
“Marble Faun” six times,—once, when first 
published, from curiosity; a second time for its 
beautiful language; third, before visiting Rome; 
fourth, while ip Rome, as well suited to the 
spirit of the place; fifth, after returning from 
Rome, as a pleasant reminder of the visit; and 
the last time, ho remarked, “ because I wanted 
to.” 
Js George D. Prentice’s poems are to be pub- 
>- lished, and tbe plan proposed includes a life of 
their author, composed of contributions from 
* his most intimate friends, one of whom is John 
v G. Whittier. 
tttckneWs pw/nff Builder, (Troy, N. Y., 
and Springfield, HI.: A. J. Bicknell & Co.)—Fifty- 
four plates are given in this quarto volume, and 
the designs include dwellings, churches, school- 
houses, stables, jails, oourt-honses, and blocks 
for business purposes. Most of the designs arc 
very good, and commend themselves to those 
who may think of building. Our objection to 
many of the dwellings would be that they lack 
a bedroom on the fli-st floor, which, in village or 
Social ^opics. 
BY THE WAY-SIDE. 
Some of tlic most beautiful pictures are 
seen by the way-side of life. It is only be¬ 
cause they are common Unit they do not ur- 
fair owner was, but sbe gives this account of 
her duck of a bonnet: — “ Uncle George 
Goldfish brought me from Paris, as a token 
of bis love, a little ruff and collar, called a 
bonnet Due d'acquitaine, January 19, 1705.” 
MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
The vendetta is a system of vengeance to 
tbe death, which has existed for hundreds of 
BKCrG 
rural architecture, is almost an essential. More 
designs for cheap residences would also render 
the work of greater general value. Houses rang¬ 
ing in cost from $10,000 to &10.000 are above the 
menus of the masses. The variety of designs 
here shown, however, and the fact that most of 
them are from existing structures, gives real 
ut ility to I his latest addition to architectural 
literature. 
.§ Bailie or the Book *.—G AIL HAMILTON 
quarreled with her publishers, Fields, Osgood 
k Co, The matter was settled by arbitration. 
Then, smarting under a sense of ill-treatment, 
she put the whole story Into narrative form, 
giving fictitious names and dating back just a 
hundred years; and here wo have it, published 
by herself, but bearing the imprint of the River¬ 
side Press, at Cambridge. It is, like everything 
written by the breezy GaIL, very readable; but 
will interesi few aside from authors and pub¬ 
lishers. Of the propriety of publishing private 
grievances we have nothing lo say. That the 
lively essayist was greatly provoked seems cer¬ 
tain. If she chooses to grat ify her feelings at 
such expense os the issuing of this beautifully 
printed volume entails, the public ought not to 
complain. 
Library or Wonder*. (New York; 0. Scrib¬ 
ner & Co.)—We have from time to time noticed 
issues of this most useful series. Before us now 
arothree volumes more,—“The Sublime in Na¬ 
ture," “Wonders of Glass Making," and "Won¬ 
ders of the Sun.” Each Is handsomely printed, 
and illustrated with some half a hundred well 
executed engravings. There is, also, in each, a 
deal of valuable information, set forth in a 
stylo at once simple and attractive. For the 
young, especially, we know of no collection of 
books better worth perusal. 
History of the State or JWw T’ork. (Now 
York: J. B. Ford & Co.) - Text-books multiply 
as rapidly as ever. Here, howev <-r, isonoent irely 
new In design, its author is S. 8 . Randall, 
Superintendent of Public Schools in the city of 
New York, who should know thoroughly the 
wants of schools, seminaries and colleges. The 
work should be studied by every scholar in the 
State, it seems to us. Concise, corn et,—so far as 
we nan just now judge.—and well arranged, it is 
worthy a place in history classes. 
.nouHiiih* Bat riot*. (Boston: Henry Hoyt.) 
—The Reformation in Bitvoy furnishes the basis 
for this interesting story. All who have read of 
Lake Leman, in Switzerland, and the Castle of 
Chillon, will read it with peculiar interest,; 
IISTO- Al IvISS BV THE WAY 
rest our attention and fascinate us by their 
beauty. Little sketches of every-day being 
and doing, colored by love, and lacking all 
consciousness of portraiture, are the sweetest 
of any that meet our eyes. One of these the 
engraver has re-produced below. It has the 
rare grace of nature, and breathes of that 
tender affection which is, more titan all other 
human things, angelic. 
And what does it suggest? Loving ten¬ 
derness as we journey on? — a free yielding 
to the heart’s purest promptings as wc pass 
along? All this, and more. There arc 
times when if is beautiful to stop by the 
way-side and exchange sweet tokens of af¬ 
fection. it is by such little baitings on the 
march of life that humanity keeps young 
and sympathetic. Kisses and liaud-clasps 
are not mere sentimental diversions, to be 
enjoyed only by foolish lovers. They are 
essentials to the better welfare of the race. 
They sanctify commonest lives, and make 
them richer and worthier. They are the 
sweetest blossoms of being, by every worn 
way-side. 
— -.+ ♦+. . ■■■■ — 
THE BONNET. 
The good ladies who so much delight in 
small bonnets, hats, caps, or whatever else 
you may choose to call them, must not sup¬ 
pose that the small size of the “ head-gear ” 
at present in vogue is wholly without a par¬ 
allel. Even if it be “ a rose-bud fastened 
with two straws,” the women of yore have 
had them quite as diminutive. There is in 
the Taunton. (Mass.) Museum a head-dress 
more than a century old, very much like 
one of the present fashion. The bonnet 
itself is about the size of a small tca-saucer, 
constructed of line lace—which was once 
white—with flowers of blue, white and pale 
orange; and the strings are composed of 
rows of small circles of lace joined at the 
edges, each containing a tiny bud in the 
center. ‘We have no evidence as to who the 
SIDE. 
years in Corsica, and which was, until re¬ 
cently, recognized and approved by nearly 
the entire community, including even the 
less enlightened ministers of religion. Its 
origin is obscure, but may probably be traced 
to the constant feuds and warfare that have 
existed in the island, dividing the members 
of families aud communities, ever arming 
one agamst the other, and to the weakness of 
authority. 
All Corsicaus carried firearms. If one 
man considered himself insulted by another 
in any way, however trivial the ground, lie 
shot him. From that moment the family of 
the man killed was bound in honor to pur¬ 
sue the murderer, or in his delault, some 
member of his family, and to retaliate blood 
for blood. This obligation descended from 
one member of the family to another, until 
it often ended in the all but entire destruc¬ 
tion of both families. Villages, entire com¬ 
munities, would take up the quarrel of their 
members against, other villages, other com¬ 
munities, and thus, in the absence of a public 
foe, they massacred each other. 
-—-- 
BELIEVE THE BEST. 
He who thinks better of his neighbors 
than they deserve cannot be a bad man, for 
the standard by which his judgment is 
formed is the goodness of his own heart. It 
is the base only who believe all men base, 
or, in other words, like themselves. Few, 
however, are all evil. Even Nero did a good 
turn to somebody—for when Rome was re¬ 
joicing over his death, some loving hand 
covered liis grave with flowers. Public 
men are seldom or never fairly judged, at 
least while living. However pure, they can¬ 
not escape calumny; however incorrect, 
they aro sure to find eulogists. History 
may do them justice, hut they rarely get it 
while alive, either from friend or foe. 
- ++* - 
Better err through kind than evil intent. 
BY ALIQUA. 
I. 
O ! for tho power of winter’s wind; 
To toss tho snow like spray, 
In drifted caves of carving rare 
To revel all the day; 
To throw tho bnre, brown arms of trees 
In agony on high, 
And for their fallen robe of leaves 
To make them sob and sigh. 
II. 
O ! for tho freedom of the wind! 
To rush o’er UtU and dell, 
To hear tho sound of lost and song, 
Tho chime of wedding bell; 
To catch tho words of children fair 
And toss their silken curls, 
To kiss without rebuke or frown 
The laughing llpa of girls. 
HI. 
To climb up to tUo arching sky 
On golden rods of light,; 
To fan with all mv hronth tho stars, 
Those watch-tire* of t,ho night; 
To fill the sails of lloecy clouds 
When days are bright and fair. 
With gentle touch to aid in flight 
The spirits of the air. 
IV. 
The wind wout by and sadly sighed 
•* Your life is Joy to mine: 
Tho pleasant things arts quickly spent 
As foam dies on tho wtnc,— 
But sadness lingers everywhere, 
The bell forever tolls, 
I llll the sails for boatmen palo 
Who bear departing souls. 
V. 
“ I know tho scenes of nightly crime 
Beneath the watching stars; 
I wander with tho homeless ones, 
I sob at prison bars; 
1 sigh that hope so often cheats, 
That love hut ends ill pain, 
That children innocent aud pure 
Grow worldly-wise and vain. 
VI. 
" I tear the beggar's scanty rugs 
And pinch him blue with cold, 
I bear the miser’s curse uud cry 
For more of shining gold : 
1 wreck the ships on ocean wave 
And Death them with mo flies, 
And in the oars of watching ones 
I shriek like drowning cries. 
VII. 
" I linger long whore grave-yard mounds 
Their dreamless sleepers keep; 
Till time shall end t may not know 
Thu joy of rest and sleep.” 
The wind goes by with lltful sigh 
And drifts the fleecy snow; 
But O, I Wou|d not bO tho wind 
So much of grief to know ! 
Storifs for Ruralisto. 
MISS MEREDITH, GOVERNESS. 
BY BERTHA SIBLEY FtCRANTOM. 
CHAPTER XII. 
[Continued from page 226, lust No.| 
The boys sprang out eagerly, as a stout, 
middle-aged gentleman stood upon tbe 
threshold, crying— 
“ Papa, it is papa!” 
But Flossy clung instead to Gerald ink’s 
fingers and hid her face when he would have 
taken her to his arms. 
" This is tbe young lady my mother in-law 
wrote me of?” he said, in a kind, gentle¬ 
manly way, as they entered the library. 
“Meredith— yes, sir, Geraldine Mere¬ 
dith,” she replied, looking up for tho first 
time from Flossy’s face, hidden on her 
shoulder. 
“ I only arrived, you see, a while since. 
The news of my afllictlon found me in Ger¬ 
many, in time only for the last steamer,” he 
said, and she saw the face was like her fath¬ 
er’s, younger, but with that kindly smile in 
the gray eyes. 
Slits left the children with him alone that 
evening. She could hear the merry laughter 
coming from below. When they came up 
stairs, little Flossy whispered,— 
“ I like papa! He is not near as stern as 
he used to be. He brought me lots of Ger¬ 
man toys!” 
That next morning, alter the breakfast,— 
where tho children conducted themselves 
creditably for once,—Mr. Keith sent them 
away. 
From his station an the library hearth-rug, 
he spoke to Geraldine, as she was follow¬ 
ing them. 
" Miss Meredith, will you be kind enough 
to remain a while?” he asked. 
She thought him a queer, absent-minded 
man, as he stood offering her a chair. Not 
an unpleasant face, spite of her prejudices. 
Of course there was a great deal to tell and 
to arrange. 
lie stood and looked out of the window, 
absently, never even glancing at her, or at 
tbe face of bis dead wife on tbe wall oppo¬ 
site her ebair. And sitting there, Geral¬ 
dine fancied it had been an unequal sort of 
marriage. She could imagine bow a child 
might, fear him,—even such a child as Flos¬ 
sy, if taught to avoid him. For the first 
Lime she noted a feeling of relief as lie turned 
and in a vague way she fancied the shadow 
of his home had been greater than that of 
the grave to this kind, this honest-faced man 
Ur had a keen way of looking at her, albeit 
there was no stateliness, only of manliness, 
a little apt to he brusque, In his manners. 
“ Well,” he said, pausing awhile as she 
finished. “Very well”—with a slow, tic- 
