GENERAL HISTORY OF CIVILIZATION IN EUROPE, FROM THE FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE TO THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. Translated from the French of M. Guizot. New-York: D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.

We have here a good translation of M. Guizor's great work on civilization. It should be carefully perused by every one who desires to obtain a calm, profound, and philosophical view of the origin, progress, and various forms, of human civilization, and a correct history of the development of the human mind. The author has surveyed, with an observant eye, the long track of history, and generalizing facts and events in his reflective and philosophical mind, he points out clearly how some bear upon others, and arrives at his abstract principles and profound conclusions, with a power and eloquence which have seldom been equalled. His sagacious and penetrating intellect grasps at once the peculiar principle that prevailed in the civilization of the various races and nations of mankind; perceives clearly the chain of events which modified that principle; and forcibly points out the causes that extinguished it, or gave life to a new one. How delightful to a mind thoroughly acquainted with the history of his race, to contemplate the abstract principles that have made their destiny; and, looking upon the theatre of the world where vastly interesting events are rapidly occurring, displaying every variety of human passion and character, to be able to trace them to the first moving cause; the principle that set the elements in motion; the mind, as it were, that conceived, directed, and governed the great human drama! Our author considers the leading and peculiar principle of modern civilization to be individualism, the energy of personal existence; and that the development of the individual man, of his mind, and faculties, is the result of the modern social system. It was the offspring of German society, a gift from the officina gentium, that is destined to make ample amends for the overthrow of the mere municipal and unprogressive civilization of Rome, which related to forms and physical existences, rather than to ideas and feelings, by establishing a principle that gives impulse to the individual, and provides for the illimitable improvement of the condition of

man.

ANSWERS TO THE QUESTIONS, WHAT CONSTITUTES CURRENCY? WHAT ARE THE CAUSES OF UNSTEADINESS OF THE CURRENCY? AND WHAT IS THE REMEDY? By H. C. CAREY. Philadelphia: LEA AND BLANCHARD.

THERE is no question, at the present moment, that agitates this community so much as that of the currency. The existing derangement, from whatever cause it may have arisen, is spreading desolation over our whole country; and unless some remedy or relief can be found very soon, will result in the destruction of our industry, commerce, prosperity, and wealth. It behooves every true patriot to cast aside the bitter recriminations and bickerings of partizan spirit, with which one party seeks to throw the blame of public calamities upon the other, and advance at once to a calm and candid consideration of the best remedies for the acknowledged and far-reaching evils. The pamphlet before us, written by Mr. CAREY, of Philadelphia, the author of several able treatises upon various branches of political economy, enters into the discussion of this important subject with a proper spirit, and exhibits no ordinary degree of talent, research, and information. The author first inquires, 'What constitutes Currency?' which he defines to be, gold or silver coin, or bullion; and engagements of individuals or associations, to deliver, on demand, certain quantities of money; the latter consisting of circulating notes, or credits, commonly called deposits, transferable by means of checks or drafts. Left to its natural course, undisturbed, currency is capital seeking investment; but when, by an exercise of the will of the owners, arising from panic, fear of war, or doubt of any kind, it is hoarded in a strong box, or withdrawn from its province of facilitating the exchanges of property, it ceases to be currency; and the exchangeable value of property depreciates in consequence of its losing its appropriate character.

Our author then proceeds to discuss the question of the causes of the unsteadiness of the currency. A portion of this currency, in all countries, consists of deposits, unpro

ductive to their owners; and the power of affecting the currency, and of increasing or diminishing prices, 'exists in precisely the ratio which this unemployed capital bears to the whole currency.' The greatest amount of unemployed capital is to be found in France, where the currency is exposed to great fluctuations. Mr. CAREY reviews the currency of France, England, Scotland, our Southern, Middle, and New-England States; and shows, that where the people are most free to select for themselves their own medium of exchange, the currency will most nearly approach the amount actually needed for the daily business of life, and will consequently be least liable to expansion or contraction. He demonstrates, and as it seems to us, conclusively, that the unsteadiness of the currency is by no means the result, as some suppose, of the adoption of the credit system, or the substitution of checks, drafts, and circulating notes, for gold and silver; for prices are now much more uniform, throughout the world, than they were fifty, one hundred, or five hundred years ago. The price of grain in the fifteenth century fluctuated in a single year from four shillings to four pounds, and there was then nothing but gold and silver for currency. It is not, consequently, the extension of the credit system, that causes fluctuation of the currency; but such a condition of things as leaves a large amount of capital unproductive, or not subject to daily appropriation and use. He finds that in the New-England states this state of things exists, and hence their currency is more stable than any where else in the world. In France, as much capital is retained, in gold and silver, as would require the labor of one hundred and twenty-nine days to produce; whereas in New-England, the gold and silver retained would require only three days' labor for its production. This is a most striking commentary upon the value of a well-regulated credit system. Indeed it is evident that a well-regulated credit system would furnish a currency, which, supplying a little gold and silver for domestic trade, and for paying off foreign balances, would give facilities for constant employment of capital, and thus render it impossible to cause any great fluctuation in prices, except such as real abundance or scarcity should naturally create.

We are then easily brought to see what is the remedy for the existing evils. It is not in forcing the currency back to the basis of the dark ages, gold and silver only; it is not in breaking down credits, and impairing confidence; it is not in accumulating capital in masses, to lie idle and unemployed; it is not in imposing legislative restraints, with a view to control the current of trade, or to increase and diminish the circulating medium; but it is simply, by adopting a system substantially similar to that of Rhode Island; by abolishing restraints upon the employment of capital and credit; by recognizing the right of men to associate together on such terms as they may agree upon among themselves; and to trade with those who choose to trade with them, in such manner as they may deem best for their respective interests; and to extend or limit their liability, provided they give perfect publicity to their arrangements and operations. The great fault of our banking system has been its character of monopoly; which, by throwing the power into certain legalized hands, of increasing or diminishing that portion of the currency which consists in credits, gives them an opportunity of expanding it, at one time, beyond the real wants of the public, and forces them at another, when disaster or panic occurs, to contract it below the actual necessities of the community. The monopoly of the exclusive privilege of creating this kind of currency operates upon this country, in fact, in the same way that an actual accumulation of gold and silver currency in the hands of a few, does upon France; inducing expansions and contractions at the will of the owners, whether influenced by caprice, panic, or other cause, and leading, consequently, to great fluctuations in the prices of all kinds of property. Abolish the monopoly, and this kind of currency would adapt itself to the actual wants of the public, to facilitate the exchanges of property, and would in practice furnish its own checks and balances, to prevent any serious fluctuations. Such are, substantially, the views of this very sensible and intelligent writer; and we sincerely hope this little work will be extensively read, since it can scarcely fail to correct many of the essential errors which are prevalent on the subject of the currency.

EDITORS' TABLE.

THE TOMB OF WASHINGTON. We have been permitted to examine a very beautiful volume, from the press of Messrs. CAREY AND HART, Philadelphia, printed, as we infer, for private circulation, containing the correspondence relating to the marble sarcophagus sculptured by Mr. JOHN STRUTHERS, of Philadelphia, and presented by him to the executors of General WASHINGTON, two or three years since. A brief account of the depositing of the remains of the Father of his Country in this enduring work of art, was given at the time in the public journals; but until the appearance of the volume before us, the interesting details of the removal had not been published; they will therefore be mainly new to our readers. Leaving the original correspondence in relation to the sarcophagus, we pass to the mansion at Mount Vernon, where, after much care and trouble, the 'ponderous marble' had arrived. An interesting description is given of the house and grounds, where, among other striking relics, are to be seen a primitive map, with marks in pencil by WASHINGTON, tracing the route which he traversed in BRADDOCK'S disastrous and fatal campaign against the Indians; the key of the French Bastile; together with rare plants, exotics, etc., originally presented to WASHINGTON. After an account of the opening of the old vault, and a description of the new tomb, we find the following passage, depicting the appearance, and describing the removal, of the body: 'The coffin containing the remains of WASHINGTON was in the extreme back part of the vault; and to remove the case containing the lead en receptacle, it was found necessary to put aside the coffins that were piled up between it and the door-way. After clearing a passage-way, the case, which was much decayed, (and near which was found a silver breast-plate, on which was engraved the date of his birth and death,) was stripped off, and the lead of the lid was discovered to have sunk very considerably from head to foot; so much so, as to form a curved line of from four to five inches in its whole length. This fractured part was turned over on the lower part of the lid, exposing to view a head and breast of large dimensions, which appeared, by the dim light of the candles, to have suffered but little from the effects of time. The eye-sockets were large and deep, and the breadth across the temples, together with the forehead, appeared of unusual size. There was no appearance of grave clothes. The chest was broad; the color was dark, and . had the appearance of dried flesh and skin adhering closely to the bones. We saw no hair, nor was there any offensive odor from the body. A hand was laid upon the head, and instantly removed; the lead of the lid was restored to its place; the body, raised by six men, was carried and laid in the marble coffin, and the ponderous cover being put on, and set in cement, it was sealed from our sight on Saturday, the seventh day of October, 1837.' Fine lithographic engravings of the exterior of the new tomb, and of the front and side views of the sarcophagus, with its beautiful sculpturing, illustrate the letter-press descriptions. The volume closes, most appropriately, with WASHINGTON'S Farewell Address, that invaluable legacy, which will be handed down to the remotest period of our history as a nation. We never can peruse this patriotic and truly characteristic document, without a renewed reverence for its author. With what a prophetic vision he surveyed the glorious future of the republic he had formed! anticipating, and guarding his countrymen against, the fury of party spirit, and the impostures of pretended patriotism; and urging them to watch over the interests of the

Union with jealous anxiety; to 'discountenance whatever may suggest even a suspicion that it can in any event be abandoned; and indignantly to frown upon the first dawning of every attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the rest;' a country whose liberty was the result of joint councils and joint efforts; of common dangers, sufferings, and successes. May these wise and good counsels, given in the fulness of an overflowing heart, which was 'soon to be consigned to the mansions of rest,' sink deep into the mind of every American! NAPOLEON shook the world, and was the thunderer of the scene; but what was his far-reaching ambition, to the aspirations of WASHINGTON? What are his triumphs, now that he sleeps on his lonely isle, far amid the wastes of the sea, to the ardent patriotism and unobtrusive piety which filled the heart of WASHINGTON with expansive benevolence, with all human charities, making him gentle to others, and severe only to himself? So long as the 'blue summits of his native mountains shall rise toward heaven; so long as the river on whose banks he lived, and on whose banks he rests, shall flow onward toward the sea,' so long shall the memory and teachings of WASHINGTON be kept fresh in the hearts of his countrymen !

EDITORS' DRAWER. - - Several months have elapsed, since we found leisure to examine attentively the accumulations of our private drawer, wherein is deposited, we may add, in passing, nothing that is not deemed 'pleasant, and of good report,' either as a whole, or in parts. Sometimes, however, objections exist, of an external nature, which delay, and not unfrequently altogether retard, the publication of articles otherwise wholly unexceptionable. We regret to say, that the length of very many anonymous communications, of a high order of excellence, wholly precludes their insertion in our pages. Among these, we may include 'Arthur's Superstition,' from the pen of a young and modest writer, who will hereafter, unless we greatly mistake the character of his mind, and the bent of his genius, make himself favorably known to the public. If those of our contemporaries whose scope is more ample, do not anticipate us, in securing the services of this young writer, we shall have the pleasure, when our filed articles are reduced in number, of making our readers familiar with his literary promise. Some idea may be formed of the felicity of his pictures of nature, from the following admirable passage, describing the opening of summer, in the forests of the west :

'When spring-time came, I was in my old haunts on the cliffs; observing Nature, as she proceeded to dress up her fair scenes for the gay season, and greeting the leaves and flowers as they came laughing to their places. I watched the arrivals by every soft south wind. I thought I recognized many a constant pair of old birds, who had been to me like fellow-lodgers the previous summer; and I detected the loud, gay, carousal-song of many a riotous new-comer. These were stirring times in the woods! The robin was already hard at work on his mud foundations, while many of his neighbors were yet looking about, and bothering their heads among the inconvenient forks, or 'crotches.' The sagacious old wood-pecker was going around, visiting the hollow trees, peeping into the knotholes; dropping in to inspect the accommodations, and then putting his head out to consider the prospect and all the while, perhaps, not a word was said to a modest little blue-bird that stood by, and had been expecting to take the premises. I observed, too, a pair of sweet little yellow-birds, that appeared like a young married couple, just setting up house-keeping. They fixed upon a bough near me, and I soon became interested in their little plans, and indeed felt quite melancholy, as I beheld the troubles they encountered, occasionally, when for whole days they seemed to be at a stand-still. At last, when their little honey-moon cottage was fairly finished, and softly lined, they both got into it, by way of trial; and when I saw their little heads and bright eyes just rising over the top, I could not help thinking that they really had little hearts of flesh, that were absolutely beating in their downy bosoms.'

We know not when we have met with more life-like limning than this; nor have we any fear that the reader will not agree with us, in our admiration of its picturesque beauty. Our young friend is not less happy in his delineations of feeling and passion. Take, for example, the subjoined sketch, a brief episode in the writer's story, occurring soon after an affecting description of the death of his mother. It is a touching instance of the force of human sympathy, in the bosom of childhood:

'One Saturday afternoon, as I loitered in loneliness around my desolate home, my sorrows overcame me. My heart was ready to break. It swelled and overflowed, and gushes of grief over

whelmed me. At length, I took my way down to the burying-ground. It was a little gore of meadow land, between two hills. On each side of it there was a brook; the two presently joined their waters, and flowed away to the westward, between the woody ridges. It was only the family burying-place, but the green hillocks covered a plat about sixty feet square. There was no vestige of a fence around it; and no monument was there, except a broken piece of gray stone, at the head and foot of each grave, and an old oak tree, of primeval growth, which marked the head of the grave of one of our pilgrim ancestors. Under that tree he had been laid down, and his children for several fruitful generations had been gathered like the leaves around him. Many an afternoon had I been with my mother under that tree, when the pilgrim seemed to me to have been a contemporary of Abraham. I had looked on that grave while my mother told the traditious, and dwelt upon the virtues, of that good old man. Often had I seen her by his mother's grave, and now there was his own by its side, and the grass was growing over both alike. I sat down, and gave myself up to grief. There was a path through the woods on the opposite bill, and a little girl coming along that way, with a basket on her arm, stopped and looked at me. Presently she came down over the brook, and stood by me. I took no notice of her; I wished her to go away; but she remained standing near, for some time; and at length she lifted up my hat-brim, and looked down into my face. She was a kind, affectionate-looking girl. She took a rose from her basket, and offered it to me; and as I bent my face down, without regarding it, she placed it in my button-hole. She kneeled down on the grass, and taking all the flowers from her basket, evidently the gatherings of a whole morning, she selected the prettiest, and offered them to me, by the haudful. I took them, looked at them, and laid them down; and then she took them and stuck them in my hatband, and my bosom, and every button-hole, until I was decked as gaudily as a butterfly. It was impossible not to feel the influence of her simple blandishments; and by degrees she won me from sorrow. I smiled, and at length even laughed; and we played about on the green slope the whole afternoon.. At last, when it grew late, she took up her basket, and went over the brook, and away, as she came. The sun was just going down; his slanting rays lingered on the gentle bluffs along the valley; and the bright waters blushed beneath the glowing glances of the departing god of day. Little birds were fluttering about in the quiet scene; and a robin on the hill-side filled the air with liquid notes, and revelled in the gushing melody of his evening song. I arose with a freshness and vigor of feeling to which I had long been a stranger. I mounted the hill, and looking around on the landscape, I found it wearing the beauty of my happiest days. I leaped the stonewall, and hurried home, once more a light-hearted boy; and from that afternoon I was almost as cheerful and joyous as ever.'

Our readers shall hear more, in due time, from the author of 'Arthur's Superstition;' and in the mean while, let us counsel him to accumulate these fresh and unpremeditated sketches of nature, and 'records of the affections.' They will stand him in good stead, in better days.

'CARLYLE-ISM' embodies a good deal of deserved satire, yet is mainly unjust to the intellectual staple of that extraordinary writer, THOMAS CARLYLE; and as 'C. F.' gives us no liberty to emend, he (or she? - for the hand-writing is a dainty piece of work,) will find his мs. at the desk of the publication office. The author of 'Sartor Resartus' has many things that a plain reader would desire to see amended; yet it may be questioned whether - such is now his Germanized intellect any material change would not lose us much which we should be sorry to part with. We had just been reading a passage of his, upon Dr. JOHNSON, before taking up our correspondent's communication; and we must ask even 'C. F.' whether it be not a 'curtailed abbreviation' felicitously 'compressing a synopsis of a good many particulars' in the character of the 'great leviathan :'

'Johnson was called the Bear, and did indeed too often look and roar like one, being forced to it in his own defence; yet within that shaggy exterior of his, there beat a heart warm as a mother's; soft as a little child's. Nay, generally his very roaring was but the anger of affection; the rage of a bear, if you will; but of a bear bereaved of her whelps. Touch his religion, glance at the Church of England, or the Divine Right, and he was upon you! These things were his symbols of all that was good and precious for men; his very ark of the covenant; whoso laid hand on them, tore asunder his heart of hearts. Not out of hatred to his opponent, but of love to the thing opposed, did Johnson grow cruel - fiercely contradictory; this is an important distinction, never to be forgotten in our censure of his conversational outrages.' Generous old man! Worldly possession he has little; yet of this he gives freely from his own hard-earned shilling, the halfpence for the poor, that waited the coming out' of one not quite so poor! A Sterne can write sentimentalities on dead asses: Johnson has a rough voice; but he finds the wretched daughter of vice fallen down in the street; carries her home on his own shoulders, and, like a good Samaritan, gives help to the help-needing, worthy or unworthy.'

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Johnson has found, in Scottish critics, writers disposed to repay in kind his very complimentary remarks upon Scotland and Scotchmen; and these have doubtless assisted to hand down a highly-colored picture of his 'saucy roughness,' which in truth required no embellishment. A recent edition of 'Mrs. Prozzi's 'Johnsoniana,' with notes, gives us some new anecdotes, illustrative of the great love borne by the Bear' for the 'land