The Mysterious Castle: A Tale of the Middle Ages. Translated from the French by Mrs. Kate E. Hughes. Baltimore: Kelly, Piet & Co.
This quaint autobiography of the Baron de Rabasteins is charmingly written. It is full of pleasant, lively incidents of travel, with descriptions of the life and manners of the French people during the middle and latter half of the last century, a period which can hardly be classed as mediæval, as the title given to the translation imports. The adventures of the young baron in the so-called “mysterious” castle of Monségur surpass any story of the kind we have ever read in fiction. If they knew what a treat was in store for them by its perusal, there is not one of our young folks who would not like to get it as a school premium or as a Christmas present. However, we feel it our duty to say that there are numerous faults in translation which in future editions should be corrected. As, for example, on the first page we are confronted with the expression “decision of the holy siege,” by which we presume is meant “the judgment of the Holy See.”
The Art of Knowing Ourselves, etc. By Father John Peter Pinamonti, S.J. With Twelve Considerations on Death, by Father Luigi La Nuza, S.J., and Four on Eternity, by Father John Baptist Manni, S.J. Translated by the author of St. Willibrord. London: Burns & Oates. 1877.
Daily Meditations on the Mysteries of Our Holy Faith, and on the lives of our Lord Jesus Christ and of the Saints. First Part, containing Meditations for the five weeks of Advent, for the six weeks after Christmas, as also on the Mysteries of the Life of Christ. Translated from the Spanish of Rev. Father Alonso de Andrade, S.J. London: Burns & Oates. 1878. (For sale by The Catholic Publication Society Co.)
Here are two more volumes of meditations written for other times and rescued from oblivion. Of the three brief treatises contained in the first volume, the “Art of Knowing Ourselves” is a veritable gem. It may well be called “the looking-glass which does not deceive.” Regarding the other two treatises—the “Twelve Considerations on Death” and the “Four on Eternity”—we have to remark again that there is much in them unsuited to the present age. We greatly prefer the second volume from the Spanish of Father Andrade; for though here, too, in the meditations for the first week of Advent, will be found things rather calculated to irritate than to edify, yet the rest of the book is the more delicious for its quaintness, and has a way we have never seen surpassed of making us familiar with Jesus and Mary as our models, and of showing us what wealth is treasured up in the gospels which the church has chosen for her Mass.
St. Teresa’s Own Words; or, Instructions on the Prayer of Recollection, etc. London: Burns & Oates. (For sale by The Catholic Publication Society Co.)
This is a good English translation, by Bishop Chadwick, of St. Teresa’s admirable method of interior prayer. It contains the sense and substance of the whole third book of the Imitation of Christ, showing us in brief how Truth speaks within, without the noise of words; and that interior conversation of Christ with the faithful soul is the surest means of possessing our Sovereign Good in this world and the next. It is, as Edmund Waller says, “infinite riches in a little space.”
The Notary’s Daughter. From the French of Mme. Donnet, by Lady Georgiana Fullerton. New York: D. & J. Sadlier & Co.
As the translator, Lady Fullerton, announces that this very pretty tale is an adaptation, and not in a strict sense a translation, we are assured that the gifted authoress of Lady Bird has not only avoided servility in translating the parts of Un Mariage en Province which she has decided to employ, but has added to a very charming French story some of her own excellent ideas, both in relation to plot and dialogue. The story brings us to the south of France, about Toulon, and is strikingly illustrative of the French theories in regard to matrimony. A notary, M. Lescalle, who possesses great political influence, has a very pretty daughter, Rose, whom he successively offers to all the great men in the neighborhood, desirous of his support, as a suitable wife for their sons. His offer is accepted by a rich roturier, but is abruptly broken off by M. Lescalle himself, in consequence of another offer of marriage by M. le Comte de Védelles, in behalf of his younger son, George. Now George, being considered a fada—namely, a half-witted person—is an object of aversion to Mlle. Rose; but, in spite of her repugnance, the ceremony takes place. It is needless to say that George is not a fada, but is a poet, unappreciated by his relations, and so everything is brought to a happy conclusion. The dialogue is above the average of novels, but even so, it is not very sprightly. The moral tone is exceptionally good. The plot affords an opportunity of condemning the system by which marriages are arranged in France, and invites reflections which cannot be discussed in a brief criticism.
The Precious Pearl of Hope in the Mercy of God. London: Burns & Oates (For sale by The Catholic Publication Society Co.)