16 NOVEMBER 1867, Page 22

CURRENT LITERATURE.

The Story Without an End. From the German of Carove. By Sarah Austin. With illustrations printed in colours, after drawings by E. V. B. (Sampson Low.)—We have here a most beautiful edition of Mrs. Austin's well-known translation of the "Story Without an End,' illustrated by E. V. B. with even more than her accustomed poetical grace and fancy. It is difficult to select when all the illustrations are so delicately beautiful, but we cannot help point- ing out several that strike us especially ; the first, for instance, where the child is asleep in his little bed, with the sunbeam slanting in upon him, and the bird perched on his bed-post, while some exquisitely painted couvolvuluses make a bower above him. Again, when the child is "sunk in a dream of delight,"—the innocent little thing with the prettiest feet in the world resting on violets, while his head, supported by a fat pair of arms, leans on a scarlet fungus (query— are they found in spring ?) with a dragon-fly overhead, and some won- derfully real primroses and snowdrops, make up the sweetest little picture possible. Another very beautiful drawing is " The Garden of Ancient Palms ;" a white doge is flying over the housetops in the fore- ground, the palms and cypresses rise dark against a glowing sunset, with purple mountains in the distance,—a picture of Eastern richness and beauty. Another, "A Golden Boat on a Great, Great Water," where the child is sailing on the sea in a nautilus shell, while above and below are tho most delicate little landscapes of mountains and meadows, is an exquisite dream. The nut-bush bower, where he is sitting amongst the nuts and blackberries, is very quaint and pretty, while perhaps the most fanciful and poetical of all is the last, where he lies amongst the grasses, with the rose petals floating over him, folded in his little shroud, which is made to suggest a chrysalis with wings folded inside. But it is quite impossible to describe these illustrations. We must refer our readers to the book itself, if they wish to see a perfeet development of the grace, fancy, and true poetical genius for which the pictures of E. V. B. have long been remarkable.