Czytaj książkę: «Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. XXIV, May 1852, Vol. IV», strona 30

The election to the vacant chair of Greek in the University of Edinburgh which took place on the 2d of March, was contested with uncommon zeal. Up to a late period it seemed undecided which of the many able candidates for the office would win – but at last the choice lay between Dr. William Smith, Dr. Schmitz, Prof. Blackie, Prof. Macdowall, and Mr. Price. The election was ultimately decided by the Lord Provost giving a casting vote in favor of Prof. Blackie. In this gentleman the University has secured a man of genius, energy, and kindly feeling – and one well able to maintain its character for classical learning.

Mr. Dickens's Bleak House is producing quite a marked sensation in Germany. Half a dozen publishers at least announced the work several weeks since, and on the 30th of March the first number of Bleak House was to appear in half a dozen German translations. It remains to be seen what the German translators will do with the Court of Chancery and its technicalities.

There are now about five or six various translations of Macaulay's 'History of England' published in Germany. The number is likely to be increased by another translation, for which a Brunswick book-seller has engaged the name of Herr Beseler the Schleswig-Holstein politician of the year 1848.

Barante has published his third volume of the Histoire de la Convention Rationale, which comes down to the epoch of Carrier, at Nantes.

Pierre Leroux, who is now an exile in London, is about to deliver a course of lectures on the History of Socialism. Pierre Leroux has not only the necessary erudition for the task, he has also the prestige of having intimately known the modern Socialists.

The works of Chamfort are collected into one octavo volume, with a preliminary essay by Arsene Houssaye. These writings abound in anecdotes, and sharp sentences, picturesque, ear-catching, brief, and suggestive phrases.

George Sand has made another unsuccessful dramatic experiment, Pandolphe en vacances, which distresses the admirers of her genius, who desire to see her renounce a stage to which that genius is clearly not adapted, in spite of Le Champi and Claudie.

In the Revue des Deux Mondes is commenced a skillful translation of Mrs. Norton's beautiful novel, Stuart of Dunleath, by Emile Forgues; and an intimation is given of this vein being actively worked.

No small sensation has been caused in Paris by the discovery of the extraordinary forgeries of the Shelley letters. The fact is, that the system of forging letters and manuscripts of distinguished personages is carried on to a large extent in that city: indeed it is as much a regular branch of business as the manufacture of pictures by the great masters is in Italy. In Germany similar frauds are practiced with great success. Only a little while ago a gentleman purchased several letters purporting to be written by Luther, every one of which it now appears is a forgery. In Italy the same system is carried on.

The literary remains of the late Anselm Feuerbach, the most learned of the professors of criminal jurisprudence in Germany, are about to be edited by his son, L. Feuerbach, and published by C. Wigand, of Leipzig.

King Max of Bavaria has given a commission to M. Halbig, the sculptor of Munich, to model from the life a bust of Schelling, the well-known German philosophical writer.

The admirers of German literature will be glad to learn that an attempt has been made in Germany to register the enormous number of books and pamphlets which the Germans themselves have published on their two great poets, Goethe and Schiller. A catalogue of the Goethe literature in Germany, from the year 1793 to 1851, has been published by Balde, at Cassel, and in London by Messrs. Williams and Norgate. The Schiller literature, from 1781 to 1851, is likewise announced by the same firm.

The literary remains of the late Count Platen-Hallermunde, author of The Tower with Seven Gates, The Romantic Œdipus, The Fateful Fork, and other works, which will always stand pre-eminent in German literature, as well as the poet's correspondence with Count Fugger, are now in the hands of Dr. Minkvitz, who is preparing them for publication.

The first volume of The Lives of the Sovereigns of Russia, from Rurik to Nicholas, is announced as nearly ready in London. It is to be completed in three volumes, and to be printed uniformly with Miss Strickland's Queens of England, with illustrations. The author, who is not unknown to fame, truly remarks, "It is a singular fact that there is no such work at present in the English language, and that we know, perhaps, less of "Russia and the Russians," than we do of some of the distant tribes of India. It does appear, therefore, that there is a blank in our historical library which requires filling up; such a publication, consequently, may be deemed a desideratum in English literature."

Three Leaves from Punch

First Aristocratic Butcher-Boy. – "Hullo, Bill. Don't mean to say yer've come down to a Pony?"

Second Ditto Ditto. – "Not dezactly! Our Cart is only gone a-paintin'."

Omnibus Driver. – "Reely, now! and so the 'lectric fluid takes a message between Dover and Calis. (Inquiringly) Pray, Sir, wot's it like? Is it any thing like beer, for example?"

Flunkey. – "Apollo? Hah! I dessay it's very cheap, but it ain't my Ideer of a Good Figger!"

Ellen. – "Oh, don't tease me to-day, Charley; I'm not at all well!"

Charley. – "I tell you what it is, Cousin – the fact is, You are in Love! Now, you take the advice of a fellow who has seen a good deal of that sort of thing, and don't give way to it!"

Mrs. Smith. – "Is Mrs. Brown in?"

Jane. – "No, Mem, she's not at Home."

Little Girl. – "Oh! what a horrid Story, Jane! Mar's in the Kitchen, helping Cook!"

PENALTIES

The Penalty of buying cheap clothes, is the same as that of going to law, the certainty of losing your suit, and having to pay for it.

The Penalty of marrying is a mother-in-law.

The Penalty of remaining single, is having no one who "cares a button" for you, as is abundantly proved by the state of your shirts.

The Penalty of thin shoes, is a cold.

The Penalty of a pretty cook, is an empty larder.

The Penalty of stopping in Paris, is being shot.

The Penalty of tight boots, is corns.

The Penalty of having a haunch of venison sent to you, is inviting a dozen friends to come and eat it.

The Penalty of popularity, is envy.

The Penalty of a baby, is sleepless nights.

The Penalty of interfering between man and wife, is abuse, frequently accompanied with blows, from both.

The Penalty of a Godfather, is a silver knife, fork, and spoon.

The Penalty of kissing a baby, is half-a-crown (five shillings, if you are liberal) to the nurse.

The Penalty of a public dinner, is bad wine.

The Penalty of a legacy, or a fortune, is the sudden discovery of a host of poor relations you never dreamt of, and of a number of debts you had quite forgotten.

The Penalty of lending, is – with a book or an umbrella, the certain loss of it; with your name to a bill, the sure payment of it; and with a horse, the lamest chance of ever seeing it back again sound.

The Penalty of being a witness, is to be abused by the lawyers, snubbed by the judge, and laughed at by the spectators; besides having the general state of your wardrobe described in the papers next morning.

WHAT I HEARD ABOUT MYSELF IN THE EXHIBITION

I am the original of the "Portrait of a Gentleman," in the Exhibition of last year. I had my likeness taken, because I had a great admiration for the original. I thought my face handsome, and my figure noble, if not elegant – I believed that I had a remarkably grand head. I prided myself on my eyes, not only on account of their color, which I took for a deep gray, but also for a lustre which I fancied them to emit, which I supposed was the fire of genius. I was persuaded that I had a Roman nose and a finely chiseled mouth. Sometimes I thought I resembled Byron, at others Shelley. It is true I could not conceal from myself that my proportions were rather massive than lofty, and that my legs were somewhat curved; but I imagined that these peculiarities imparted a stalwart manliness to my bearing. While sitting to the artist I composed my countenance into the most dignified and intellectual expression of which it was capable. I was represented in full dress, and I thought I presented the appearance of an Apollo – perhaps a little too much developed – got up for an evening party. I was anxious that the public should share my gratification, and had the portrait sent to the Exhibition, where it appeared on the Catalogue as the "Portrait of a Gentleman." As soon as the Exhibition was opened I went there, and stationed myself before my picture; a crowd was gathered around. I thought, at first, that they were admiring it as much as I did. I listened to their criticisms, and was undeceived. "'Portrait of a Gentleman!'" said one, "Portrait of a Snob!" and passed on. I was indignant. "What could possess that fellow; with his unmeaning face, fat paunch, and bandy legs, to have his picture taken?" inquired another. My head swam, I thought I should have fainted. "Vulgarity personified;" "What a silly simper upon the face;" "What a self-satisfied smirk about the mouth," remarked a second, third, and fourth, as they cast their eyes upon the picture. "The head is like a dumpling," said a phrenological-looking visitor. "Why does he show that fat hand so conspicuously?" asked a sixth. I was represented standing with one leg crossed before the other, my hand resting upon a book – which attitude I thought harmonized with my remarkably intellectual countenance. "The figure would pass for Sancho Panza, but the face is too stupid," said a seventh. By this time I was almost stupefied with humiliation; but the worst was yet to come. Among those who were contemplating the portrait was a lady – the loveliest, I think, I ever saw. "Poor fellow!" said she, at last, with a sigh, "how dreadful it must be for him to have those horrid green eyes!" I could bear no more. I rushed from the Exhibition, and slunk to my rooms. What I suffered that night I can not describe. But the next day I recovered my senses; sent for my picture from the Exhibition; and am now reconciled to the fact that I am a very ugly-featured, bandy-legged punchy little fellow, not the least in the world like an Apollo.

Spring Fashions

May is here with its bursting buds and early flowers, but its fickleness overmatches that of its imitator, Fashion, and foils all her attempts at adaptation of costume for the carriage or the promenade. To-day the sun smiles as in leafy June; to-morrow cold, gray clouds lower upon the brow of the firmament, and chilling winds chase the zephyrs back to the orange groves of the South. To-day a light dress is seasonable; to-morrow a cloak might not be uncomfortable. It is difficult for the modiste to designate the best costume for promenade; and to avoid error, we will confine our report to fashion in the parlor, drawing-room, and saloon.

Represents a pretty Dinner or Visiting Toilet. The head-dress is composed of blonde, ribbon and white satin, velvet ribbon and white feathers, and is worn very backward on the head. The blonde forms a round with scalloped edge, covered with figures. It is gathered in the middle, and the gathers are concealed under a cross bow formed of two loops of velvet and two of white satin, two long ends of white ribbon (about fifteen inches) hang down behind. On each side there are two white feathers. The upper one is laid backward, and the lower one comes forward. From between the two proceed two velvet bows and a loose end. This little Pompadour cap is the same on both sides. The ribbons of the crown are No. 12; those of the sides No. 3. Dress of moire antique, ornamented with narrow velvet ribbons, about three-eighths of an inch wide. Body plain, high, opening in front, edged with two narrow velvets, the first three-eighths of an inch wide. The opening is confined by five moire bands, each with a bow of the same. The sleeves, rather short, are bordered with five velvet ribbons. The skirt is trimmed with two series of velvets. The first begins six inches from the bottom, and is composed of twenty rows. The second begins six inches above the other, and contains fifteen. The rest of the skirt is plain. The under-sleeves and habit-shirt are lace.

Is an elegant Ball Toilet. Hair waved and ornamented with a crown of small parti-colored tulips; it inclines to the Mary Stuart form on the head, and increases in size toward the bottom. Dress of taffeta with tulle tunic and bertha. The body is ornamented with a bertha, open in front, round behind; this bertha, of tulle in small puffs, is trimmed with clouded Pompadour white ribbon, No. 9. They are placed in such a manner as to inclose the bertha as if in a ring. The tulle skirt is also tucked up and held by Pompadour ribbons, No. 16, which are set as if they raised it and held it in long loops. At the waist, these ribbons are plaited in with the plaits of the skirt. The tulle skirt is puffed in very small puffs. In the middle of the body are placed bows of Pompadour ribbon, No. 9. On the left side there is a beautiful fall of tulips with foliage; the silk skirt is studded with bows of Pompadour ribbon, No. 12.

Represent a beautiful Home or Visiting Toilet. Velvet vest and skirt; waistcoat, watered silk. The waistcoat reaches high, and is buttoned from top to bottom. The vest sits close behind and is open in front; it has a lapel turning up from the bottom, and trimmed with a plaid satin ribbon, having a velvet stripe in it. The sleeve is short, and ends in a plaid cuff, open at the sides. The edges of the lapel and the cuff are bound with a narrow black velvet. The skirt is trimmed with three rows of plaid ribbon, No. 22; the lowest is placed two inches from the edge. The second and third are at intervals of four inches from each other. A black velvet, No. 2, is laid about half an inch from each side of the ribbon. The collar is cambric, turning down flat, rounded at bottom. Under the collar a narrow black satin cravat is worn. The cambric under-sleeves are plaited small, and form a puff, confined by a narrow plain wristband, and terminated at the hand by a plain open manchette, rounded off at the corners, and held together by two jewel buttons connected with a chain. This sleeve is very much like the sleeves of a gentleman's shirt. A Matilda cap, of blonde. It is set very backward on the head; the crown is very small, and is drawn by a white watered ribbon, which is tied on one side, where it hangs in two ends. A branch of moss roses springs out of the knot. The band of the cap, which is made of indented blonde, is gathered, but short in front, whereas behind it is gathered and long.

Represents a portion of an elegant Ball Dress. Coiffure: hair in bandeaux, wreath of roses, small bunches of grapes, and satin ribbons with gold figures. Under-dress, white satin; the outer one with two tulle skirts, embroidered in spots with silk, and trimmed with ribbons. The satin body is rather low in front, and inclining to the V shape; the tulle body is open in front down to the waist; it is confined by four small cords of silk and gold, which are tied in the middle, and terminate in small silk and gold tassels. The lower one goes round the waist, like a sash, and the two tassels fall at unequal distances rather low down the skirt. The tulle body is gathered at the waist, in front, and at the bottom of the back. It is also gathered in the shoulder seam. Two ribbons are sewed on the edge of the body, the second disappears in the gathers. The satin sleeves are even and short; those of tulle are open at the side and held by a knotted cord. The large tulle skirt is trimmed at bottom with five ribbons. The first is gathered at the waist and arranged so as to drape in front and reach down lower at the sides. The bottom of the tunic is trimmed with three ribbons.

Caps. – Those which are composed of English point-lace, Valenciennes, or Mechlin, are principally decorated with long streamers, or narrow ribbons, about two inches wide, forming a mass of petit coques, the ends of which being frisotés, droop in a similar way to the gerbés. Sometimes these narrow ribbons are colored and intermixed with various shades, which gives them the name of the touffes à la jardinière. Pretty ones are formed of Brussels point, and decorated with bunches of narrow gauze ribbon, green, pink, blue, white, brown, yellow, &c., twisted so as to form clusters upon each side of the bands. The little caps of the present day are mostly made in a slight point just over the forehead, where it comes a little forward, and rises upon each side just over the temples. These caps are made rather long at the ears.

Head-Dresses. – Several very charming ones are now worn, formed of black lace, and ornamented upon the side with clusters of black velvet ribbon, richly broché in gold, and having long drooping ends floating over the neck. We have also remarked several very piquant coiffures in velvet, decorated with gold sequins, so much in fashion now; while others of a lighter description are of tulle, embroidered with gold, and interlaced with chains of sequins, falling upon each side of the neck, and decidedly making the most aristocratic head-dress of the season. The wreaths of flowers now intended for our young élégantes, are also extremely pretty, some being formed of small bell-flowers, which droop in a single row, quite over the top of the forehead, while others have long sprays falling over the back part of the head, having a very novel effect.