REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS.

Course of the History of Modern Philosophy. By M. Victor Cousin. Translated by O. W. Wight. New York: D. Appleton & Co. 2 vols. 8vo.

The thinking portion of the reading public are under great obligations to Mr. Wight for his vigorous and accurate version of Cousin’s master work, and to the Messrs. Appletons for the beautiful dress in which it fitly appears. It belongs, indeed, to that rare class of works which illustrate the intellectual history of the age in which they are produced; and it deserves the attention of all readers who desire to take the first step in acquiring a taste for metaphysics. It is composed of two courses of lectures, originally delivered in Paris to large and enthusiastic audiences, whose admiration of the splendid eloquence of the lecturer soon compelled them to love the subject likewise; and when published, their influence was felt in every country into which the French language and literature penetrates, and caused a revival in philosophy, which somewhat amazed its hard and dry cultivators from its peculiarity and its extent. These lectures, indeed, made metaphysical science popular everywhere. Men and women read Victor Cousin as they read Scott and Byron. His bold and dazzling generalizations, expressed in a style of singular clearness, energy and vehemence, stimulated the most jaded minds; and the dictatorial confidence with which he settled all the problems of history, philosophy and religion, and the ease with which his solutions were comprehended, made him the universal favorite. There was something captivating, too, in the theory by which he reconciled all the various systems in his eclectic and electric method. There are four systems, sensualism, idealism, skepticism, and mysticism, each having its root in consciousness, each containing an element of truth, and each wrong as an exclusive system. Select from these what is true, place the four partial truths in their relations, and the result is the eclectic philosophy. This is a loose, short-hand statement, in unphilosophic language, of Cousin’s scheme.

It must be admitted that Cousin’s system did not long hold its ground. After the first surprise was over, the metaphysicians par eminence began to attack him with great fury, and gave him some blows from which he has never recovered; and the public, who had been carried away by his eloquence, forgot him as soon as another novelty appeared. The result has been, that of late he has not been estimated according to his real merits. He most certainly has not done what he pretended to do. He has not reconciled the philosophers or the philosophies; he has hardly formed a school; his disciples have expired, recanted, or left the inclusive for some more satisfactory exclusive system. But he is still a metaphysician of uncommon power, acuteness, insight, genius; his works are full of important truths and principles, which stimulate the mind to independent thought; his information is immense; and he is the most brilliant, comprehensible and readable of all the historians of philosophy. He is to metaphysical history what Macaulay is to civil history; and we do not see why the present work is not as capable of holding the pleased and breathless attention of the intelligent reader as the “History of the Revolution of 1688.” There is in both writers the same confident manner of settling controversies about which centuries of disputants have wrangled; and, on the first blush, it seems impossible to resist the statements of either of them, as both drive directly at the common sense of men; are clear and brilliant, while their opponents are obscure and dull; and never leave the impression of an undefined something outside of the limits of their respective systems, to puzzle and torture their readers with a latent doubt. “I wish,” said Lord Melbourne, “that I knew any thing as well as Tom Macaulay knows every thing.” This “I know,” and “I am sure,” this absence of self-distrust, is as characteristic of Cousin as Macaulay; and the mischief is that after reading either, we are apt to be as satisfied as they are themselves, and think we have thoroughly mastered the matter.

It would be impossible in our limited space to convey an idea of the contents of these volumes. Beginning with the proposition that philosophy is a special want and necessary product of the human mind, and the last development of thought, Cousin proceeds to show that it has existed in every epoch of humanity, is a real element of universal history, and contains the explanation of its various parts. He thus explains Indian Civilization by the Bhagavad-Gita, the age of Pericles by the philosophy of Socrates, the sixteenth century by the philosophy of Descartes, the eighteenth century by the philosophy of Condillac and Helvetius. He then states the psychological method in history, a method which is neither empirical or speculative, but combines the two, seeking in history the development of the human reason. After stating the fundamental ideas of history, which are the fundamental ideas of the human reason, namely, the Infinite, the finite, and the relation between the two, he treats the great epochs of history as answering to the successive development of these ideas. The influence of geography, of nations, and of great men, in history, is then stated with great eloquence, force, and subtle complication of truth and paradox. Some vigorous sketches of the historians of humanity and philosophy, in which their merits are luminously exhibited and their defects acutely analyzed, are followed by a view of the philosophy of the 19th century. The eclectic tendency of European society and philosophy is noted, and the necessity is shown of a new general history of philosophy to explain the new movement of thought. Next follows a picture of the eighteenth century, with the character and method of its philosophy. Its different systems are not peculiar to that century; and the origin, natural development, relative utility, and intrinsic merit of Sensualism, Idealism, Skepticism, and Mysticism, the four classes into which all ideas fall, are vigorously and clearly stated. The history of these is then given, in a splendid review of the Hindoo, Greek, Scholastic, and modern philosophies; and the sensualism of the eighteenth century is traced to all its sources. A criticism of Locke, running through ten lectures, and generally considered to be the ablest of Cousin’s productions, concludes the work.

It will be seen, even from this bold outline, that all the questions which have puzzled human reason, and to which it has at different periods given different answers, are stated and discussed in Cousin’s work. The splendor and the beauty, the unwearied energy and the rapid movement of his style, carry the reader on to the end with hardly a pause of distrust or fatigue; and we hope that a translation, executed with such a lavish expenditure of intelligence and industry as Mr. Wight’s, will meet with its due reward in an extensive circulation. Certainly nothing which can by courtesy be called a library can afford to be without it.

The Works of Daniel Webster. Boston: Little & Brown, 6 vols. 8vo.

This beautiful edition of the works of one of the greatest statesmen that the country has produced, contains all the speeches and legal arguments in the former editions of Mr. Webster’s writings, together with the numerous orations and addresses he has made since the year 1841, and the masterly state papers which he produced while Secretary of State in the administration of General Harrison. To these are added the celebrated letter to Chevalier Hulseman, written while in his present station. The collection is edited with much care and ability by the Hon. Edward Everett. The biography of Mr. Webster by the editor, is a clear, candid, elaborate, and somewhat frigid view of his whole life as a statesman and lawyer, giving an accurate statement of the various circumstances under which the great efforts of his mind were produced, and placing the reader in a position to appreciate their importance. The tone of the biography is cautiously moderate, indulging in none of the fervors of eulogy or exaggerations of friendship, and, on the whole, not coming up to the enthusiastic praise with which Mr. Webster’s powers are commonly mentioned by those who have had most occasion to dread or decry their exercise. Mr. Everett seems to have felt too acutely the delicacy of his position, as the biographer of a living friend; and, shrinking from the responsibility of pouring out in glowing words his own admiration of his subject, is content to import all such perilous matter from the dashing and vivid pages of Mr. March.

It seems to us, also, that Mr. Everett gives little evidence in his biography of a sustained and vigorous conception of Mr. Webster’s mind and character. We do not mean that his epithets are not appropriate, that his judgments are not accurate, that his generalities are not abstractly just; but he evinces no power of diffusing the results of analysis through the veins of narration, of making the reader feel constantly that he is following the life of a man as peculiar and individual as he is great. The Websterian quality of the subject never flashes once out from Mr. Everett’s elegant sentences. Take any page from the biography and compare it with any paragraph in the speeches, and the defect we have noticed will be apparent to the most unapprehensive reader. There is no mental and moral agreement between them. It would seem to be one duty of the biographer to translate into intelligible form the vague impression which the works of the subject of the biography leaves on the most superficial mind; to detect, to fix, to embody the subtle spirit which, emanating from character, gives unity and individuality equally to the events of a man’s life and the productions of a man’s mind. A man of the large dimensions and massive force of Mr. Webster, whose personality stamps itself so readily upon the imagination, and groups fit words round its own image by a kind of magnetism, offers few obstacles to a right psychological treatment; and we are somewhat astonished that a man of Mr. Everett’s various talents and accomplishments should have failed in this important part of the biographer’s duty.

We trust that this collection of Mr. Webster’s writings will have an extensive circulation, were it only for the good influence it is calculated to exert on the literature of the country. To one party in the United States they are invaluable as containing the best exposition they possess of their political principles—to all parties they must be attractive for the many electric passages of purely patriotic eloquence with which they teem; but to the author they are especially valuable as models of style. We use the word models not in its usual sense, for we certainly would not give any one the ridiculous advice to imitate the diction even of Mr. Webster; but we would advise every one to follow Mr. Webster’s own method of composition, which is simply the method of common sense and common honesty. The great literary sin of the day is pretension; and it is refreshing to read a man who, comprehensive and powerful as he is, modestly accepts the limitations of his genius, never borrows a thought or an emotion, and rarely uses a word which he has not a right to use. If we compare him for a moment with men who gain popularity by debauching in language, we feel at once the force of that expression which austerely limits itself within the bounds of character, and stamps on every sentence the authority of personal experience.

A Journey through Tartary, Thibet and China. By M. Huc. New York: D. Appleton & Co. 2 vols. 12mo.

These quaint and interesting volumes are the record of the travels of a Catholic Missionary in countries of which the reading world knows little or nothing. The sketches of scenery, manners, customs, religion, and character, are very graphic, and the style of composition is so direct and simple that the words form pictures in the mind without any effort on the part of the reader. The views of the religion of Thibet are very clear, and add to our knowledge of its philosophic basis. The mind of M. Huc almost realizes the ideal of the observing faculty. He sees distinctly, and gives us exactly what he sees, without modifying it by his own opinions or sentiments. To read his book, is next to walking or riding by his side, and seeing the strange objects he describes with our own eyes. His illustrations of Tartar life are especially graphic and amusing. Here is a specimen. “When not on horseback, a Tartar is generally quite idle, and passes a great part of the day crouched in his tent, drinking tea, and sometimes he lounges about like a Parisian dandy, though not quite in the same way. When he has a mind to see what is passing in the world, he mounts his horse, and goes galloping away into the desert, without heeding in what direction, and whenever he sees the smoke of a tent rising, he makes a call, and has a gossip.” His description also of the Jonathan Wilds and Dick Turpins of Tartary is quite edifying. “The robbers,” he says, “are in general remarkable for the politeness with which they flavor their address. They do not put a pistol to your head, and cry roughly, ‘Your money or your life,’ but they say in the most courteous tone, ‘My eldest brother, I am weary of walking on foot. Be so good as to lend me your horse!’ or, ‘It is very cold to-day—be kind enough to lend me your coat!’ If the eldest brother be charitable enough to comply, he receives thanks; if not the request is enforced by two or three blows of the cudgel, or, if that is not sufficient, recourse is had to the sabre.” It is the custom of these polite gentlemen, however, to rob none the less thoroughly because they use the amenities of genteel life. The poor traveler who falls into their hands is not only deprived of horse, camel, money and goods, but he is stripped of every rag of clothes, and left, with an elegant bow and smooth farewell, to die of cold and hunger. This is the very method of genteel society everywhere.

The shrewd and remorseless avarice of the Chinese is illustrated in these volumes to perfection. From the emperor to the trader, all prey on the poor Tartars. Thus M. Huc meets a member of a great commercial house in Pekin, at Blue Town, and enters into a conversation with him. The merchant claims the missionary at once as one of his own trade, which, with Spartan brevity, he describes to consist in eating Tartars. “Eaters of Tartars!” exclaims good M. Huc, “what is the meaning of that?” to which the other answers, “Our trade—yours and mine—is to eat the Mongols—we by traffic, you by prayers.” On the missionary’s assuring him that he paid for every thing as he went along, and that his mission was purely disinterested, the merchant almost choked himself with laughing at the folly of a man who should venture into such a country for any other purpose than to prey upon its inhabitants; and then proceeds to describe the mysteries and moralities of the Wall street of China. We commend his system to our glorious army of shavers and capitalists. You see, he says, these Tartars “are simple as children when they come into our towns. They want to have every thing they see—they seldom have any money, but we come to their help. We give them goods on credit, and then, of course, they must pay rather high. When people take away goods without leaving the money, of course, there must be a little interest of thirty or forty per cent. Then, by degrees, the interest mounts up, and you come to compound interest; but that’s only with the Tartars. In China the laws forbid it; but we, who are obliged to run about the Land of Grass—we may well ask for a little extra profit. Isn’t that fair? A Tartar debit is never paid—it goes on from generation to generation; every year goes to get the interest, and it’s paid in sheep, oxen, camels, horses—all that is a great deal better than money. We get the beasts at a very low price, and we sell them at a very good price in the market. Oh! it’s a capital thing—a Tartar debt! It’s a mine of gold.” This is but one specimen of a Chinese “eater of Tartars.”

M. Huc’s volumes are full of equally piquant sketches, and we know of few tourists who seize with such inevitable tact on incidents and peculiarities which illustrate the morals and the habits of whole classes of people. The work is one of the most original and novel yet published in “Appleton’s Popular Library of the Best Authors”—a collection of which no lover of readable books should be without.

The Maiden and Married Life of Mary Powell, afterward Mistress Milton. New York: D. Appleton & Co. 1 vol. 18mo.

It appears to us that this volume is fully as felicitous as “Lady Willoughby’s Diary.” Like that it is in the form of a journal, written in the orthography and style of the seventeenth century. The simplicity with which the whole is conceived and wrought out is exquisite. The idea of the book is taken from the well-known incident of Milton’s first courtship and marriage; and its charm consists in accounting for the disagreement between the couple on grounds of nature which do not appear in the bold statement of the fact. It is a delicious volume, full of the essential spirit of poetry, and pure, tender, simple and refined throughout.

The Yellowplush Papers. By William M. Thackeray. New York: D. Appleton & Co. 1 vol. 18mo.

This is one of the earliest and best of Thackeray’s delightful works. It is a sort of autobiography of a London footman, Charles Yellowplush, comprising very vigorous sketches of his various masters, and written in a style which inimitably combines shrewdness with vulgarity. The spelling alone is a work of genius. The portion relating to Mr. Deuceace has passages of great power and pathos as well as humor, and exhibits the utter lack of sentiment and principle, the hard demoniacal selfishness of a true London blood, with extraordinary closeness to the fact. “Mr. Yellowplush’s Ajew” and “Epistles to the Literati,” are also riotous with mirth. Bulwer Lytton’s coxcombry is caricatured in these last very ludicrously.

Putnam’s Semi-Monthly Library for Travelers and the Fireside. New York: George P. Putnam. 6 vols. 12mo.

This is one of the cheapest and best edited literary enterprises ever started in the United States. It is published in semi-monthly volumes, each of which is printed in large type on fine white paper, contains some two hundred and fifty pages, and is placed at the low price of twenty-five cents a volume. Two volumes are given to prose and poetical comicalities, carefully selected, humorous cuts and all, from “Hood’s Own;” three volumes consist of capital selections from Dickens’ Household Words, entitled “Home and Social Philosophy,” “The World Here and There,” and “Home Narratives;” and the last is an original production, written by Mr. Olmstead, and called, very aptly, “Walks and Talks of an American Farmer in England”—an exceedingly interesting book, in which the author gives, in a homely but expressive style, his experiences among the farming population of England. We trust that Mr. Putnam’s admirable plan will be fully carried out, and that his success will be as complete as his enterprise is commendable. The price is hardly one-third of the usual cost of American reprints of equal elegance of execution.

Lyra and Other Poems. By Alice Carey. New York: Redfield. 1 vol. 12mo.

We wish that we had sufficient space this month to do justice to the qualities of mind and character impressed on this beautiful volume; but we shall be compelled to defer an elaborate view of its merits. The first glance at its pages will reveal to the reader the extreme sensitiveness of the writer’s mind to all that is beautiful, and tender, and sublime, and the swift felicity with which she embodies the most evanescent shades of emotion, and the most subtle meanings of natural objects. We regret that so large a portion of the poems should be so sad in their tone, as Alice Carey’s genius is by no means bounded by the serious side of things, but can sing cheerily as well as mournfully. The present volume, however, has more “hearse-like airs than carols.”

Isa; A Pilgrimage. By Caroline Chesebro’. New York: Redfield. 1 vol. 12mo.

This powerful story has a peculiar interest from its bearing on the fashionable ethics of certain novelists, who inculcate libertinism under the guise of liberality of thought and nobility of sentiment. The authoress shows the depraving influence of this philosophy on the noblest natures. Her insight into the workings of passion is remarkably bright and clear; and the vigorous movement of her narrative fastens the reader’s interest to the end. The chief fault of the book is its unrelieved intensity.

Tales and Traditions of Hungary. By Theresa Pulszky. New York: Redfield. 1 vol. 12mo.

To those who are interested in the recent struggles of the brave and unfortunate Hungarian people for national independence, this volume will be heartily welcome. It gives us glimpses into the manners of the people, and exhibits the strong foundations on which the national character rests. The work has been popular in England, and its authoress, now a resident in the United States, has republished it with additions. We hope it will meet with a large share of popular favor.