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    Befobe us lie the British Quarterly , London Quarterly , and Irish Quarterly Reviews , and the batch of Magazines . To give in reasonable space an account of so much Literature is out of the question ; we shall , therefore , dot about from subject to subject , selecting an article here , a passage there , and so try to " do our spiriting gently . " One thing is noticeable in these periodicals , and that is the gradual increase of attention bestowed on science . In the British Quarterly , Newton furnishes a good article , and in the London Quarterly , Copernicus , the story of whose life is less familiar to that wondrous personage the General Reader ( who is popularly supposed to delight in all the bad books and shallow philosophy written for his especial benefit , and who must have a

    very peculiar organisation if that supposition be true ) ; indeed , it is for G . R . that reviews are mainly -written , to supply his leisure with the fruits of many men ' s labour . G . R . is even more fond of the portable erudition than of science . He especially delights in those retrospective glances at the past , which tell him something , not too much and not too elaborately , of the men of old . Reviewers are the bees gathering honey from the heather of dreary commons . They tell him , for example , the whole story of Spenser ' s life ( as in the British Quarterly ) , with remarks on Spenser ' s poetry , which save the trouble ( G . R- is fond of opinions ready-made ) of a lengthened cultivation of that much-neglected poet ; and which perhaps , in

    a Jticky mood , may even urge him to take down the Faery Queene , and so do him a benefit . That Spenser is little read is a fact no one disputes ; but the reason why he is neglected , and neglected in spite of exquisite and obvious beauties , in spite also of the enthusiasm of certain admirers , surely lies m the simple fact that he is tedious ? There will always be a class of purely poetical readers who will delight in Spenser , and always the vast public which declines his acquaintance . We remember Monckton Mix . jses once humorously answering the question put to him whether he really admired Spenser , with— " Is that a public or a private question ? " Publicly , all poets are bound to admire him ; privately , they leave his volumes to the

    undisturbed researches of dilettante spiders . . Shakspjeare ' s Minor Poems also , in spite of the Shakspearian idolatry , ore Ies 3 read than their admirers patiently acknowledge . Bexx ' s edition , recently issued , and the article on that edition in Fraser , will give many the desire to read , or re-read , these poems . By the way , when Robert Bell and his Critic announce as a novelty the fact that Shakspbahe ' s reputation as a poet was , for bis contemporaries , mainly founded on the poems , and not upon the plays , do they not both overlook the striking but indisputable fact tlvat plays were not then regarded as literature , in the sense we now regard them , but simply as theatrical pieces , very much as the plays of our day are regarded by us ? Bjbn Jonson was laughed at by the wits for calling his plays " works . " And this we lake it is the reason why Venus and Adonis went through six editions , while the most popular of the plays , Romeo and Juliet , was printed only twice .

    the coast , a large black mass advancing towards me . I strained nay eyes to pierce tl darkness which separated me from it , and clearly discerned a small % H 0 * . butter moving regularly up and down . I knew by this that it must be some ship sailing fa to destruction . Without losing a minute , I set fire to the rancho , and in a few secom a column o f flame was towering high up in the air , and casting a ray of light throuj the surrounding wilderness . My signal was perceived , and the vessel soon tacked c of sight . Having thus saved the ship , he proceeds : — I heaped up some wood on the fire , and determining on taking a few hours of repos I cocked my pistols , rolled myself up in my blanket , and lay down . I had reckon * without the sand-flies and nocturnal sounds . Everything at first was still . "Tl beautiful red , green , and yellow fire-flics were flitting by thousands through the ai Gradually a sort of humming sound reached my ear , proceeding from the depths i the forest . It swelled and waxed louder and louder as it seemed to approach m Ten minutes more and I was in the midst of the most infernal concert that ever f « on human ears . The din and uproar were astounding . Thousands of tree-frogs occ pied every tree in my vicinity , and probably for a hundred miles around me iiumbe of enormous toads of various species were crawling everywhere ; geckos ( a species lizard ) glided invisibly over my face and body ; innumerable swarms of crickets , gras hoppers , and cicadas covered every plant in the Manabique territory . All these creatur seemed striving to outdo the others in the production of unearthly sounds . It was 01 immense accumulation of singular and inharmonious noises—of croakings , pipings , be lowing * , stridulations , saw-sharpenings , chirpings , squeakiugs , chatterings . Imagine yourself a million of voices raised simultaneously , with every variety of intonation ar with unceasing perseverance , and you still have but a weak idea of the discord whi < that night drove sleep from my couch . From time to time the shrill cry of son night-bird startled me as it silently hovered over me , and several times I distinct : heard the roar of a jaguar , roaming along the beach in search of the large turtles whi < at this season come to spawn in the dry sand . Hosts of sand-flies and mosquito assaulted me all night , and irritated me by the hopelessness of getting rid of then scratching and slapping were of no avail , as those I thus destroyed with a sort savage satisfaction were immediately replaced by new myriads . At Ia 6 t the loi wished-for dawn appeared , and the sun rose rapidly above the horizon . The hpwlir monkeys saluted its presence by a terrific chorus , which echoed far and wide throug the solitary woods , and crowned the wonderful vocal performances of this memorab night . In the way of retrospective reviews , we have more than once direct * attention to the series on the Dramatic Writers of Ireland" in the Dull University Magazine . The present number contains a very intcrestii sketch of Maturin , whose Melmoth made us shudder in our " sallet days and whose Bertram gave him a momentary fame . The writer notices - him : — He was eccentric in his habits , almost to insanity , and compounded of opposite :: an insatiable reader of novels ; au elegant preacher ; an incessant dancer , which pr pensity he carried to such an ex teat , that he darkened bis drawing-room window and indulged during the daytime ; a coxcomb in dross and manner ; an extensr reader ; vain of his person and reputation ; well versed in theology ; and withal , warn * and kind-hearted man . Amongst other peculiarities , he was accustomed paste a wafer on his forehead , whenever he felt the estro of composition coming c him , as a warning to the members of his family , that if they entered hU study th < were not to interrupt his ideas bv questions or conversation .

    Really novel , and very interesting , is the fact ( if fact it be ) winch Bell lias advanced respecting Shaksfearb writing for the stage long after ho had quitted London , and settled down into a country life . Novel also is the notion advanced by the Critic i « Fraser respecting the revival of learning , which we quote : ——The revival of classical learning in the sixteenth century is generally spoken of as if the classics bad been till then unknown . The great revolution of opinion which marks that period is supposed to bo mainly attributable to the new light which the literature of ancient Greece and Rome shed upon the world . Never was there a more flagrant example of the confounding of cause and effect . The darkness , or whatever it may be called , of the middle ages , was a thing deliberately chosen in preference to the light of the classics . Clemens Alexandrinus , and Gregory Nuzianzen , know

    Plato much better than Picus MixtwQola , Leo the Tenth , or Erasmus ; but they preferred St . Paul . . Ambrose and Augustine were familiar with Virgil , Horace , and even Martial ; but they thought David and Isaiah on the whole greater poets . Later , and In the very grosstyess of mediaeval darkness , Thomas Aquinas was perfectly acquainted with the classical authors , and might have written as learned commentaries on the vices which constituted their inspiration , as Scaliger or Brunck ; but he thought he was doing better for the interests of mankind by commenting on the Uible . It was not , then , that the long-rneglected classics were , in the sixteenth century , suddenly discovered in the recesses of some library , and that , when laid open , they di / Fuscd a flood of light over benighted Europe . The true statement of the case is this : the minds of , thinking men had , then become assimilated to the classical modes of thought , and were therefore . prepared to appreciate the classics . Petrarch , Dante , and Boccaccio in lta \ y ; and in England , Chaucer , Gowor , and Lydgatc , had , upwards of a century before the revival of learning , as it is called , adopted as much of the classical feeling a ? found acceptance m their age .

    While we "are drawing on Fraser for extract , we must not pass over the striking description of a night in the forest given in the " Excursion to Point Manabique . " The writer , overtaken by a storm , creeps into a hut . How i \ no is the mysterious terror of the following : — The thunder , however , gradually ceased , but ' the rain fell heavily for Bomo time longer . Then , for a short while , nothing was heard but the dripping of water from the leaves of the forent-trees , and the hoarse voice of the billows . Ono by one , the stars peeped out from behind the receding curtain which had veiled them . I also ventured out of my retreAt , And lay myself on tho sandy beach to eat my supper , for I dared not sleep , through fear of being picked up by some roving Jaguar or alligator . I was Absorbed in reflection , when suddenly / perceived out at sea , within about ha \ f a mile off

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    MARGARET FULLER AND MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT . Woman in the Nitieteenth Century , and Kindred Papers relating to the Sphere , Conditio and Duties of Woman . By Margaret Fuller Ossoli . Trtlbuer and C The dearth of new books just now gives us time to recur to less recent on < which we have hitherto noticed but slightly ; and among these we chooa the late edition of Margaret Fuller ' s . Woman in the Nineteenth Ccntun because we think it has been unduly thrust into the background by le comprehensive and candid productions on the same subject . Notwitl standing certain defects of taste ami a sort of vague spiritualism and gram

    iloquencc which belong to all but the very best American writers , the bo ' c is a valuable one : it has the enthusiasm of a noble and sympathetic natur with the moderation and breadth and large nllowance of a vigorous ni : cultivated understanding . There is no exaggeration of woman ' s nior , excellence or intellectual capabilities ; no injudicious insistanee on her fitniv for this or that function hitherto engrossed by men ; but a calm plea for tl removal of unjust laws and artificial restrictions , so that the possibilities < her nature may have room for full development , a wisely stated demand t disencumber her of the

    Parasitic forms That fieem to ke « p her up , but drag her down—And leave her Hold to burgeon and to bloom From all within hor , make herself her own To give or keop , to livo and loam and be All that not harina distinctive womanhood . It is interesting to compare this essay of Margaret Fuller ' s published i its curliest form in 1843 , with a work on the position of woman , written b < tween sixty and seventy yenra ago—we mean Mary Wollstonccraft ' s Ji' njh of Woman . The latter work wn 3 not continued beyond tho firat volume but ho far as this carries the subject , the comparison , at least in relation t strong sense and loftiness of moral tone , is not at all disadvantageous to tl woman of the last century . There i « in some quarters a vaguo prcjudic against the Hi / this of Woman as in some way or other a reprehensible booi

    but readers who go to it with this impression will bo surprised to find eminently serious , severely moral , and withal rather heavy—the true reasoi perhaps , that no edition has been published since 179 G , and that it ia » o rather scarce . There are several points of resemblance , as well as of strikin difference ,. between the two hooka . A strong understanding is present i both ; but Margaret Fuller ' s mind wns like some regions of her own America continent , whoro you nro constantly stepping from tho sunny " clearing : ! into tho mysterious twilight of the tangled foroat—she often passes in on brcatli from forcible reasoning to dreamy vagueness ; moreover , her un usually varied culture gives her grent command of illustration . Mar Wollstonecraft , ou tho other hand , is nothing if not rational ; she has n erudition , and her grave pagos uro lit up by no ray of fancy . In both wriler wo discern , under the bravobearing of a strong and truthful nature , tho bent ing of a loving woman ' s heart , -which teaches thorn not to undervalue th

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• Citation
  • Leader (1850-1860), Oct. 13, 1855, page 988, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2110/page/16/