A WildSheep Chase. Translated from the French of Emile Bergerat.
(Seeley and Co.)—We must own to having felt a certain disappointment in reading this book. It begins very well. The writer of these "notes of a little philosophic journey in Corsica," figures himself as breakfasting at the Cafe do in Pain, and asking for moullon. "We have none left," answers the waiter. "This," remarks our auth.or, " is the canonical expression for such a short- coining; a waiter of the highest style would use it on the raft of the Medusa." There are animals, it seems, that are so ex- ceedingly rare that they do not exist at all. The writer almost fears the siouflon may be one of them. But a stranger reassures him. He is himself a Corsican. "I saw the light first at Sartine," he declares, "where the inoation abounds,—and even exists." So it comes to pass that M.13ergerat determined to go in search of this wonderful animal. Ho goes, and describes his travels. And very cleverly be does it. But he is too clever; his allusive style baffles an ordinary reader, or, if it does not baffle him, gives him a vast amount of trouble. One must know a great deal of French polities, and other French things also, before one can appreciate the fun. There are good things, indeed, that are fairly obvious, as when we read: "I think in a few years—perhaps when, thanks to the admirable custom of the vendetta celebrated
by Merimee, there are not left more than some ten thousand islanders, all functionaries—France will consider the question of colonising this colony. You need only look at the map to see that it is nearer than Tonquin ; " or when, in reply to a gendarme who tells him that the country was infested with bandits,—" It cost him a struggle not to answer that he found it rather infested with gendarmes." There is good reading in the book, but, as we have said, it is a little difficult, and this in spite of an excellent translation.
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