CURRENT LITERATURE.

CHRISTMAS AND GIFT BOOKS.

Picturesque Europe. With Illustrations on Steel and Wood. "The British Isles." (Cassell and Co.)—This is the first volume of a periodical which been appearing during the present year. Its

superiority to the ordinary books of scenery which one is accustomed to see lying on drawing-room tables is striking and manifest. The

illustrations show a very high average of merit. They are specially distinguished by their freshness, and do not give, either by their artistic or their mechanical appearance, the impression, so commonly produced by books of " views," that one has seen them fifty times before. There are, beside a frontispiece—" Windsor Castle," by Mr. Birkett Foster—twelve full-page engravings on steel, five of them con- tributed by this artist. The wood engravings are very numerous, and of excellent quality. The volume is furnished with descriptions of more than usual literary merit, and written by persons acquainted with their subjects. We might have expected, perhaps, in a chapter on " The Forest Scenery of Great Britain," some men- tion of Sayernake, one of the most perfect specimens of its kind, thanks to the undivided proprietorship which has preserved it intact, And there should have been some mention of the most characteristic relic of Sherwood still remaining, the oaks on the west side of Thoresby Park, where whole acres are covered with trees positively crowded together, each one of which, were it standing alone, the traveller would turn aside to examine. Omission, however, may be readily excused, where there are so many demands on a limited space. An equally good reason, the not having the illustrations ready cut and dried, has caused, we presume, the somewhat irritating disorder of the chapters. A chapter on "Edinburgh and the South Lowlands " is thrust into the middle of a description of England, and North Wales finds itself between Eton and Warwick. This is in every respect a very handsome and well-executed book.—Among tale-tellers, we are inclined to give the place of honour to M. Jules Verne, who gives us this year A Voyage round the World (Rontledge), in two volumes, one volume being entitled "Australia," and the other "New Zealand." It is rather puzzling for critics, who have a great many books far less interesting than M. Verne's to get through, to have to remember the antecedents of the characters to whom they find themselves introduced. Apart from this drawback, the volumes are excellent reading. They do not deal in the marvels to which M. Verne contrives to give such marvellous verisimilitude in " Ten Thousand Leagues under the Sea," but they are exciting stories of adventure, which no one will think wanting in incident of even the thrilling kind. We must be pardoned for saying a few words about the strategy, so to call it, with which the publication of these books is conducted. One of these two volumes has appeared in " Rontledge's Every Bey 's Annual," the readers of which are told that the continuation will appear in the next volume. But lo ! we have the continuation here.— Mayflower Stories, by Sarah M. S. Clarke (Oliphant), are tales of the early settlers of New England, filled out sometimes with dialogue and detail, but true in the main, and told in a way quite worthy of their subject. Perhaps it would have been well to have omitted the terrible story of the "witch mania" which came on the colony towards the end of the seventeenth century. Such matters must have their place in history, but should not be dwelt upon more than is abso- lutely needful. The last chapter tells the story of the Declaration of Jude- pendence.—A Century of Discoveiy. Translated from the German of Theodore Vogel (Seeleys). The " discoverers "whose adventures are here described were Portuguese and Spaniards. The first name of the list is that of Prince Henry of Portugal, who, though more of a patron than of a discoverer, well deserves the honour of such a place. Among other well-known names are, of the Portuguese, Bartholomew Diaz, Vasco da Game, Alfonso de Albuquerque; and among the Spaniards (though he can be reckoned a Spaniard only by courtesy), Columbus, Vasco Nunez de Balboa, Cortes, and Pizarro. The stories are well told, and the translator does justice to his originals by the vigorous English, be- traying, indeed, little of the translator's hand, into which he has rendered them. We must not omit to give a word of praise to the spirited illustrations which adorn the volume. They are not of equal merit, but they show promise.—Boy Mill, by Captain Rice, R.E. (Hatchards), is a spit ited story of how a youth gets into trouble at Woolwich by fighting a duel with an ill-conditioned comrade. It is a somewhat strong demand on the faith of any reader to suppose that the hero could have gone as a cabin-boy, but that being granted, there is no further fault to find. The story carries us elsewhere as well—to an Indian battle-field, for instance —and wherever it takes us it keeps up its interest.—Sweet Little Rogues, by Elvina Corbould (Hatchards), is meant for "a child's story," and really succeeds in being one. No higher praise is needed. The children are charming creatures. Even the silent Master Freddy comes out finely towards the end, when, having commented unfavour- ably on the appearance of an old nurse, he is told " that it is better to be good than pretty ;" and having it farther explained to him that this means that "a person may be ugly outside, but pretty inside," he wisely remarks, " Why don't they turn that woman inside out, then ?" —The Little King, by S. Blandy, translated from the French by Mary de Hauteville (Sampson Low), is a story of Russian life, in which a young noble, petted and indulged till he is past endurance, is restored to reason by the judicious management of a French governess. It makes a very pleasant and interesting volume, which we would recommend to our readers, with only a protest in passing against the grotesque cari- cature to which the illustrator, M. Emile Bayard, has seen fit to repre- sent the English tutor, a quiet and respectable gentleman, who is here figured with an appearance fatuous and vulgar to a degree.—Climbing the Ladder; or, Torn Fairbairn's Progress, by A. H. Hope (Oliphant), is a simple story of how a sensible and kind woman rescued three children from want and crime.—For Old Sake's Sake, by Stella Austin (Masters), is another story for children, prettily written, and not without humour.—In the same connection may be mentioned, though indeed it claims to be "a story for old and young," Robert's Birthday Gift (Oliphant).—Fairyland: Tales and Legends, from the German of Villamaria (Marcus Ward), is a genuine book of fairy-tales, without any of the arriere pense'e, didactic or satrical, which so often spoils them. The first of the stories, " The Chain of the Water-nymph," may be described as another version of Undine, only with a happier ending. The same idea, the longing of the lower creatures to have a soul runs through more than one of the others, and never fails to have a certain pathetic interest. Perhaps the best thing in the book is "The Little Man of the Mountain." These dwarfs, wise and kindly, and im- measurably old, are creatures in which it is almost possible to believe. Nothing could be more natural than the way in which the little manni- kin cornea to spend his winter nights before the cottage fire. It is, in truth, the thoroughly natural tone of these tales that makes them so de- lightful. The author writes as if he believed them. We have lost the art here in England, whore many clever and pretty things of the kind are written, but scarcely anything that sounds true. The next book on our list illustrates what we say,—Starlight Stories, by Fanny Lablache (Griffith and Farran), is a very pretty book indeed. There are fairies in it, there are animals which talk to each other in a very amusing way. But the whole has an allegorical air, and allegories are always a little wearying. Not that Starlight Stories will weary its readers, on the con- trary, it will amuse them. If it had nothing in it but the capital "Jack with the Fishes," we should not scruple to recommend it.—Johnnykin and the Goblins, by Charles G. Leland (Macmillan), is by title a fairy tale, but really a " nonsense " book. Now " nonsense " is very difficult to criticise. How much labour was spent on determining the value of " The Hunting of the Snark " ! For our own part, we think it ten times easier to appreciate a novel, -a drama, or a history. In fact, the virtue of nonsense is of a very subtle kind. Perhaps the easiest and most practical test is, does it make one laugh ? On the whole, Johnnykin

answers this test pretty well. Its beginning is not very success- ful, but the " Slate-pencil People," the creatures whom we drew

at school on our slates, are irresistible. So is the long array of the "Dreadful Stupids." Mr. Leland has illustrated the book him- self, and we admire his pencil at least as much as his pen.— We are not able to appreciate Laughable Lyrics, by Edward Lear (R. J. Bush), the author's " fourth book of nonsense," as it is called in the

advertisement. The " first book " was published as much as thirty year ago, and made a decided success. "The young lady of Sweden who went by the railway to Weedon," and other distinguished personages, were then introduced to the public. To go on writing good nonsense for so long a period must be far more difficult than to go on writing good sense. So the volume before us would seem to show, but it may

be that it is our critical faculty and not the author's vein of fancy that is at fault. The best thing, perhaps, is " The Akond of Swat," of which we shall give a specimen :—

Does he drink small beer from a silver jug ?

Ora bowl ? or a glass? or a cap? or a mug? or a PoT ?

The Akond of Swat?

Does he best his wife with a gold-topped pipe,

When she lets the gooseberries grow too ripe, or ROT?

The Akond of Swat?

Does he wear a white tie when he dines with friends, And tie it neat in a bow with ends, or a KNOT,

The Akond of Swat? Does he like new cream and hate mince-pies ?

When he looks at the sun does he wink his eyes, or NOT,

The Akond of Swat ?

Does he teach his subjects to roast and bake ? Does he sail about on an Inland lake. in a Tee m, The Akond of Swat?

Some one, or nobody, knows, I wot, Who, or which, or why, or what, Is the Akond of Swat."

—Mother Goose's Nursery Rhymes (Rontledge) may be described by its title-page as " a collection of alphabets, rhymes, tales, and jingles, with Illustrations by Sir John Gilbert, R.A., John Tenniel, Harrison Weir, Walter Crane, W. McConnell, J. B. Zwecker, and others." There are three hundred pages and more, with the usual" Tom Thumb's Alphabet," " Marriage of Cock Robin and Jenny Wren," "The House that Jack Built," ecc.—We have also to mention Little Blossom's Picture-Book and Little Maybud's Picture-Book (Routledge).—The Birthday Album (Macara, Edinburgh). Every day of the year has a sentence, a stanza, or verse appropriated to him. The volume, there- fore, may be used as a kind of Sortes. Every one may find a sentiment for his birthday. Only the lots will not be quite free, as they are now and then influenced, it is clear, by the season of the year. The binding is elegant, the paper and print good.—Little Wide-Awake, a Story- Book for Little Children, by Mrs. Sale-Barker (Rontledge), is an annual publication which contains a store of good things.