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in his investigation. Porter, in that beautifully printed, but most hasty, superficial, and self-sufficient description of "Syria's Holy Places," recently published, gives a long catalogue of what he calls " texts of Scripture illustrated," in his narrative. It is only weaving into the narrative passages of Scripture, selected from their seeming aptness, leaving the pietistic impression of some peculiar work of God in the destruction of these forsaken cities. These perpetual quotations from the Prophets are insufferably wearisome, and take from the work its scientific credit. A geographer of the Holy Land justifies his Christian intelligence and sincerity better in showing what time and change, the natural forces and the natural laws, have done there, than in awakening echoes of lost prophetic voices, though these were once the word of Jehovah. It will not do to show on the face of the land any other influence, whether in deluge or fire, or the ravage of war or the fall of kings, than the influence of the elements and of the passions of men everywhere and in all lands. The "comparative geography" must be that which compares not only the face of the land with the visions of Ezekiel and Isaiah, but with the face of other lands,

with China and India and Persia and Egypt and Greece; the laws of Moses with the laws of Brahma and Confucius and Menu and Lycurgus. It is the best service to get for Palestine its proper place in universal geography and history.

The theory of Ritter is the wise theory, that the physical conditions of the land make the characteristics of any people, and that the Jews were no exceptions to this general rule; that Israel was made God's people by its dwelling-place, and not by arbitrary choice. We cannot close this notice of his work more fitly, than in repeating this true and beautiful passage from the introductory chapter of his second volume:

"Within the narrow limits of Palestine we must look for the foundations of that kingdom of truth, as well as of error, which has now become a subject of historic inquiry; we must trace the latest results to their primitive causes in the geographical conditions of the country: for even here there is opportunity for such agents as the soil under man's foot, and the atmosphere over his head, to have influence. If every garden plot owes a part of the rapid progress in flowering and in fruitage to the skilful and careful hand of the gardener, cannot every land in God's wide creation trace, under His wise direction, some measure of mutual action and re-action between the country and the people who inhabit it? Our historians have many things yet to learn; and even yet they continue to fall into one-sided speculations, which betray them and lead them astray. But here is one elemental truth: history does not lie in a domain adjoining nature, so to speak, but actually within the bosom of nature; history and nature are at one, as God looks down upon them from his canopy of stars. In studying the human soul, the mode of its training, the way of its working, and that is history, - we cannot leave out of our view the outward field in which it finds its home, the world where it meets the phenomena which it investigates. In spite of the self-confidence of that pretence which science sometimes makes in the person of some of her votaries, - of finding all that she needs in the soul of man and in a mere world of subjective realities, we may assert, that a close study of the outward world, as the soul's training-place, is the only true key to history."

ART. III. - MADAME RÉCAMIER AND HER FRIENDS.

Memoirs and Correspondence of Madame Récamier. Translated from the French and edited by ISAPHENE M. LUYSTER. Boston: Roberts Brothers. 1867. 16mo, pp. xxii., 408.

We have here the two octavo volumes of the original French, admirably re-arranged, condensed, and translated into faithful and elegant English. Nothing of the original which is important, instructive, or entertaining, has been sacrificed. Yet the Messrs. Roberts Brothers, whose publishing house is distinguishing itself for the valuable and handsome books it issues, offer the work to the public, in a single charming volume, at less than a third of the cost of the original. It is one of the best books of the kind ever produced, full of an interest both fascinating and edifying. As a book of culture in the art of noble character and noble manners, we wish it might be thoughtfully read by every intelligent woman in our land. It would do a world of good, if, as is supposed, the choicest examples have a contagious power to impart their traits to those who gaze on them. We thank Miss Luyster for the graceful performance of her fine task, and trust she will win honor and remuneration.

Julie Bernard was born at Lyons, in 1777; was married, when fifteen, to the wealthy banker, Jacques Récamier, at Paris; and died there in 1849. In 1859, her memoirs and correspondence were edited by her niece, Madame Lenormant. We cannot but deeply deplore that this copious collection contains so little from the pen of Madame Récamier herself: the brief and rare specimens of her composition preserved are of such choice merit, that we must deem the destruction of her manuscripts, by her own order, a great loss to the reader. But a score of her most illustrious contemporaries have left descriptions of her and tributes to her, from which a satisfactory knowledge of her character may be gained.

The life of Madame Récamier is interesting in a pre-eminent degree, on account of the warmth, elevation, and fidelity of the friendships which filled it. Her personal loveliness and social charm made her a universal favorite, and gave her an unparalleled celebrity. But, full as her career was of romantic adventures, rich as it was in brilliant associations, its key-note throughout, its strongest interest at every point, is friendship. Unlike those of so many of the famous women of France, her friendships were as remarkable for their rational soundness, purity, and tenacity, as for their fervor. They were free from every thing morbid or affected. An adverse fate forbade the love to which she seemed destined by her bewitching beauty and grace: and a certain divine chill in the blood, a stamp from Diana in the senses, turned all the warmth of affection upwards into the mind, to radiate thence in her face and manners, and to make her a high priestess of friendship. The pure and wise Ballanche, who idolized her, said that she was originally an Antigone, of whom people vainly wished by force to make an Armida.

Her nominal husband is supposed by some to have been in reality her father; the marriage being merely a titular one, to secure his fortune to her in case of his death by the guillotine, of which he was then in daily dread. Deprived of the usual domestic vents of affection, her rich heart naturally led her to crave the best substitute, friendship. And her matchless personal gifts, together with her truly charming traits of character, enabled her permanently to win and experience this in a very exalted degree. Reserving her many deep friendships with women for mention on a later page, we proceed to speak first of her memorable friendships with men, friendships which it is refreshing and delightful to study. Her three principal friends were Montmorency, Ballanche, and Chateaubriand; all three original and extraordinary characters, and all three worthy - in spite of some drawbacks on the part of the last - of the extraordinary devotion she gave them. The letters of these three possess extreme interest. Especially, those of the first named are the unique monument of an affection whose purity and delicacy equalled its vivacity and depth.

Matthieu de Montmorency was one of the noblest of the nobility of France, alike in birth and in spirit. In his youth a voluptuous liver, he had afterwards undergone a genuine and solemn conversion. While in Switzerland, the news of the guillotining of his brother gave him such a shock, that it revolutionized his motives and his life. The gay, impassioned, fascinating man of the world became an austere and fervent Christian. The rich sensibility he had formerly spent in amours and display, henceforward ennobled by wisdom and sanctified by religion, lent a singular charm of tenderness and loftiness to his friendships. The memory of his own errors gave a gracious charitableness to his judgments; his sorrow imparted an incomparable refinement to his air; his grave and devout demeanor inspired veneration; his sweet magnanimity drew every unprejudiced heart. He had long been a fervent friend of Madame de Staël, when the youthful virgin-wife, the dazzling Julie Récamier, formed an engrossing attachment to that gifted woman. Drawn mutually to this common goal, the fore-ordained friends soon met. He was then fifty years old; she, twenty-three. Her extraor

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dinary charms of person and spirit, - her dangers, exposed, with such bewildering beauty and such peculiar domestic relations, to all the seductions of a most corrupt society, awakened at once his admiration, his sympathy, and his pity. An increasing intimacy revealing her irresistible sweetness of disposition, her many gifts and virtues, Montmorency found himself ever more and more drawn to her by the united bonds of reason, conscience, and affection. He undertook not merely to be her friend in the ordinary pleasures of sympathy, but, as a Christian, under the eye of God, sincerely and profoundly to befriend her. From that moment until his death, his devotion, though once severely tried, never faltered nor slumbered. He was to her more than a father and a brother; he was her guardian angel, as pure in feeling, as watchful to warn, to restrain, to encourage, to support, and console. For many years, through trying reverses of fortune, he visited her every evening. For many years each had a vital share in all that concerned the other; and, when he died, it was as if a large part of her being had been suddenly torn out of her soul, and transferred to heaven. The letters that passed between them form one of the most delightful and impressive records ever made of Christian friendship, - a record in which wisdom and duty are as prominent as affection.

Pierre Simon Ballanche, one of the most delicate and philosophical of French authors, most disinterested and affectionate of men, the perfect model of a friend, was born at Lyons in 1776. He was first introduced to Madame Récamier, in 1812, by their common friend, the generous and eloquent Camille Jordan. Ballanche, in an enthusiastic attachment to a noble, portionless young girl, had suffered a disappointment so deep, that it caused him to dismiss all thoughts of marriage for ever. He sought to ease the burden of rejected love by letting the sadness it had engendered exhale in a literary work. This exquisite work, called "Fragments," Jordan induced Madame Récamier to read: he also described to her the refined and magnanimous character of the author. Thus prepared, and aided by her own keen discernment, she immedi

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