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"Artemisia Judiaca of the Sinai Desert" has the honor of leading the long list, "a kind of wormwood, called in Egypt 'Shyeh,' in which we recognize the 'Shyh' of Genesis ii. 5, Job xxx. 4 to 7, and 'Shea' of Haly Abbas," etc. And so on these notes and references run for more than 1000 quarto pages. The references are very full. He reaches the Christian Era on the 467th page, and p. 847 brings us down to 1492, when America was discovered, and 1872 is reached on page 1072. In looking through this great collection of facts and references, and its three indexes, which occupy nearly 150 pages, making the vast stores of knowledge accessible, we are reminded of a great herbarium of plants from all parts of the world, carefully arranged and classified for easy reference or study, but from which all the sap and juices of life have been carefully dried out. And in looking over this great collection of facts and references, our won der is about equally divided over the patience and research with which they have been gathered, and the dryness with which they are stated. The author was carrying this work through the press at his own expense when death overtook him before it was finished. Students in more than one department of study will find in this volume a great store-house to go to and find what to look for elsewhere, and where to look for it, and much of what is now known about it, and will thank him heartily for his labor of love.

ALL QUIET ALONG THE POTOMAC.*-The first line of the little poem which has been given as a title to this whole collection, will recall to the minds of many one of the most affecting of the shorter poems which were inspired by the sad events of the civil war near twenty years ago. But these are not the only lines which will be recognized as familiar. In the days when the thoughts of all were daily following the blue coats in the far distant field, there were few who read "Company K," or On the Shores of Tennessee," without emotion. Few can read them now unmoved. The author, Ethel Lynn Beers, has not neglected during all these subsequent years the talent of which she gave then such satisfactory proof, and in these pages will be found the evidence of a poetic insight and a skill of versification on other themes which make the collection one of far more than ordinary interest.

*All quiet along the Potomac, and other poems. By ETHEL LYNN BEERS. Porter & Coates. Philadelphia, 1880. 12mo, pp. 352. For sale by E. P. Judd, New

EBERS' UARDA.*-It is a common remark of readers that they do not like romance and archæology united, that the one is apt to hinder the other. Either the archæology clogs the progress of the story or the interest in the story leads the reader to hurry over the archæological details. Perhaps readers seldom go farther than this, but it is a fair question whether considered from an artistic point, such stories are not necessarily failures. If there is to be an organic whole, a unity of impression must be aimed at. An eminent English historian has even questioned for history's sake the value of the vividness and picturesqueness which Macaulay and others have imparted to the anatomy of history. Without going so far, it is nevertheless reasonable to ask whether the archæological story is written for the sake of art or for the sake of imparting information. If, as is probable, the answer must be "for the latter," will there not be a constant tendency to multiply characters, localities, and events for the constant bringing in of the valuable knowledge?

There is something perhaps analogous to the archæological story in the mythological conception of the centaur. A Maurice de Guerin with his quick imagination, or a Guido Reni may reproduce the conception in such a way as to let us into the grandeur of the combination, and give for a while at least pleasure in contemplating a permanent union of the untiring swiftness of the horse with the directing brain of the man. But there must be two hearts, two stomachs, and two very contrary tendencies in such a combination, and the picture is at best pleasing only as the successful restoration of the idea of a crude age.

If we were to propose analogues in architecture for the perfect novel and the rather popular modern composite of history and imagination, we should suggest the Pantheon and the museum on the Capitoline. The Pantheon with its simple, grand oneness and openness of light and dome; the museum with its partitions. and divisions, where the precious lumber of past ages is displayed, but where all idea of art in the building is subordinated to one of utility. Here we speak of the typical archæological novel. Now and then a genius may give an appearance of oneness to the structure, and so lay marble with brick as to give by the most diverse materials, and in spite of intricate divisions a unity of

* Varda: A Romance of Ancient Egypt. By GEORG EBERS. From the German; by CLARA BELL. In two volumes. New York: Wm. S. Gottsberger.

impression. We think Professor Ebers has done that in the novel before us. But where the writer is enough of an artist to do so much, he will ultimately do more, and Professor Ebers rises through the intricacies and complications of this story to erect his Pantheon in " Homo Sum." It may be doubted whether he can ever write a more perfect story than that, one in which the finite and the infinite will be more perfectly blended. But as leading towards that, as having the movement of genius in dramatic combinations of rare power and beauty, set in the environment of Egyptian life, this novel is worth more than one perusal. It has not the light or the breadth of "Homo Sum," but it has some of the minor excellencies of that story and this republication of the English translation in our country will find many readers. If the imagination is a good deal fettered, the flight in parts is still bold and steady.

There are too many leading characters in the story. It takes its name from a young girl, not a full-blooded Egyptian, but the granddaughter, through an Egyptian soldier, of a Danaid Prince, but we have an interest in many other characters. For Pentaur the poetic priest, for Nebsecht who has sunk, if one may say so, the priest in the scientific explorer, for Ameni, the typical, but not altogether honest defender of priesthood, for Bent Anat, the princess, for Nefert, the wife of Mena, for Rameri, the brother of Bent Anat, for Rameses, their father, for Pinem, the paraschites, for all these and others even we have at times an intense attention. There is intrigue within intrigue, episode within episode, foreign war and peace, plotted domestic insurrection, the usual gem of ancient stories to clear up the relationship of captives, an interchange of new-born babes, and a great deal of love. Rameri the prince is in love with Uarda, and so are Nebsecht, the scientist, and Nemu, the dwarf. Ani the regent is not exactly in love with Bent Anat, but asks her in marriage, but she and Pentaur ardently love each other, and their final union is perhaps as much the goal of the story as any event. Paaker, the pioneer is desperately in love with Nefert, once his betrothed, but now the very faithful wife of Mena. In and through this web of statecraft, priest-craft, love, science, poetry, embalming, discipline, and exile we have woven with the scholar's exactness the details of Egyptian life.

One or two points seem rather significant. The Egyptain religion is delineated with much minuteness and with some show

of respect, but is made childish and repulsive even by the introduction and employment of a ram's heart to further Ameni's designs. This ram's heart is substituted by Pinem, the unclean opener of dead bodies in the process of embalming, for the human heart of a priest Rui. It was the Egyptian idea that the nobler organs must all be embalmed to secure the rest of the soul of the dead. Nebsecht, who has the scientist's longing for specimens, but can get no human heart to analyze, persuades Pinem the grandfather of the girl Uarda, who, injured by the chariot of Bent Anat has been restored to health by the scientific physician, to get a heart from a dead body as a return for his services to the injured girl. It is a fearful crime thus to rob the dead of eternal rest, and remorse for it destroys Pinem's peace and reason, and finally causes his death. When the substituted ram's heart is discovered by the higher embalmers, it is after much parade and consultation of the gods, declared that the heart of the sacred ram, Amon, which had been killed by wolves, had miraculously found refuge in the body of the holy priest. One wonders if this incident is intended to throw a slur on the Christian doctrine of the incarnation, and one is offended that so palpable a humbug should be fastened to the religion of the Egyptians, when everything else pertaining to them is so favorably pictured. Even if the incident were historical, it might better have been kept out of the story, or have received a different treatment. There is reason enough to fix the odium of the false miracle upon Ameni, the high priest, and it is implied in the final disposition of Ameni that the king censured the performance: yet if the deceit had not been exposed by Nebsecht, we are left to infer that it would have passed with all as a miracle.

It is not far to the thought that the scientific worker does by his arguments little good to the common people. Poor Pinem is not a bad type of the humble mind from which the scientific dogmatist has removed the odious "theological bias," and left only blank negations and a certain looking forward to helpless, hopeless misery.

And we can forgive the clap-trap about the heart, for the conversation between the timid parschites and the bewildering, authoritative Nebsecht, as we see how skillfully scientific power is wielded over the weak will to impel to the worst of sins, the robbing of a mummy of its human heart. Excellent, too, is the discussion on the same subject between Pentaur and Nebsecht, in

whom some modern science may find its irreverent prototype, while Pentaur makes the beauty of the universe answer to a moral order.

The story has many striking scenes, as for instance the appearance of Mesu, or Moses to Pentaur on the mountain, but no scene equal in beauty to that where Paul and Hermas in the later story hurl the discus at the palm. The nobleness of the royal house is made very apparent and the ending is satisfactory.

Two things preeminently mark Ebers' novels. One is the vividness with which beings of a very different age draw near to us and manifest the same passions that have quickened the race for thousands of years. Another is the clearness with which the laws of heredity are observed in families. In this story Pentaur is found to be the son of the dead Mohar, whom he so much in body and mind resembles, and Uarda by resemblance in part is proved to be the granddaughter of the Greek prince. But the gem does its share in confirming the discovery.

The translation, like that of " Homo Sum," is far from perfect. Sometimes there is a decided blunder, and sometimes one is puzzled, or would be without the original, to know the meaning of a sentence, as in the following: "It will be long asparagus not peas, said another looking over his shoulder and pretending to be flogging," but the narrative is in general smooth and intelligible.

ALONG THE WAY.* Many of these little poems by the accomplished editress of St. Nicholas, Mary Mapes Dodge-which appear in this beautiful volume, will be recognized as favorite verses which have attracted from time to time more than a passing glance, as they have been read in the various magazines of the day. There is throughout this collection a freshness of thought, the evidence of a poetic insight, a quick sympathy with nature in all its moods, as well as an easy diction, which calls from the reader a ready response and awakens at once an interest in her themes.

THE PRE-HISTORIC WORLD.t-This is the first attempt, so far as we are aware, to present in a romance a picture of the life of pre*Along the Way. By MARY MAPES DODGE. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1879. 16mo. 136 pp. For sale by E. P. Judd, New Haven + The Prehistoric World. By ÉLIE BERTHET. Translated from the French by MARY J. SAFFORD. Porter & Coates, Philadelphia. 310 pp., 12mo. For sale by E. P. Judd, New Haven.