Prof. Neumann, of Munich, will publish in the course of a year, a History of the British Empire in India, on which he has been long engaged. It will be as thorough and able as it is impartial, and in Germany is expected with great interest. The author proposes also to write the History of Russian domination in Asia.
In noticing the poems lately published by Goethe's nephew (mentioned in the last International), a German reviewer remarks, that the reverence which he (the reviewer), bears for the name of the uncle, "forbids any illusion to the book in question."
Adolf Stahr is publishing at Berlin a second edition of his History of the Russian Revolution; it is dedicated to Macauley.
The celebrated Countess Ida Hahn-Hahn who was formerly as thorough an infidel as any member of the Worcester Women's Rights Convention, and as indecently licentious in her novels as the author of Alban, is thus described in a late number of the Weser Zeitung:
"Daily, about noon, the loungers under the Linden at Berlin are startled by the extraordinary appearance of a tall, lanky woman, whose thin limbs are wrapped up in a long black robe of coarse cloth. An old crumpled bonnet covers her head, which continually moving turns restlessly in all directions. Her hollow cheeks are flushed with a morbid coppery glow; one of her eyes is immovable, for it is of glass, but her other eye shines with a feverish brilliancy, and a strange and almost awful smile hovers constantly about her thin lips. This woman moves with an unsteady quick step, and whenever her black mantilla is flung back by the violence of her movements, a small rope of hair with a crucifix at the end is plainly seen to bind her waist. This ungainly woman is the quondam authoress, Countess Ida Hahn-Hahn, who has turned a Catholic, and is now preparing for a pilgrimage to Rome to crave the Pope's absolution for her literary trespasses."