Fresh gleanings; or, A new sheaf from the old fields of continental Europe.[First step toward the continent. Paul Pry. Torquay. The Inn by the bridge. The zebra. Saint Hiliers. The Island of Jersey. La Hogue Bie. La Solitude. The World of Paris. Land. Going into Paris. First scenes. The Valet and the merchant. The government of Paris. Les Maisons Garnies. Story of Le Merle. The cafe. The restaurant. Le Grand Vatel. Cheap dinners. The modern cook. The religion of Paris. Le Physique de Paris. An old chronicle of the city. The Country towns and inns of France. Gazetteers. Inns and cafes of Lyon. Shows of Lyons. Les Messageries Generales. French roadside. Limoges. Rouen. Nismes. Provence. Marseilles. France rural. A Gallop through southern Aus

New York, Charles. Scribner, (1847) 1851, 1851. Book. Good. Hardcover. Reissue of the 1847 volume, with a new preface ; vii, [2], 336 p. 19 cm. ; Bal 13930 ;LCCN: 03-15494 ; LC: D919; Dewey: 914 ; OCLC: 1711142 ; green stamped cloth with gold designs ; no dustjacket ; no lines present on copyright page ; edges trimmed; "You know that I had learned to use the sickle on our farm-land in the valley, before I went away;-and could bind up the ears at harvest, with the stoutest of any men. Now here, I bring back these Gleanings from beyond the Waters:-I have plucked a grain-head here, and a grain-head there; but only since I have come home, and only at your request, have I bound a few together in a Sheaf. Here it is, homely and rude as our pastures upon the hills: but it has a fragrance for me-dare I hope it can have as much for you? In the binding up, it has made scenes come back, and stir my soul, as I thought it could not be stirred twice. Yet is it useless-altogether useless-the effort to make words paint the passions that blaze in a man's heart, as he wanders for the first time over the glorious old highways of Europe! This sheaf, Mary, is a sheaf of tares. You might pardon it: but there is that sly-faced step-dame-the Public-whom, as yet, I do not know at all,-whom as yet, I tremble to face; and I fear greatly, that she will look with a colder eye than yours, over these Gleanings, thrown together with the same free and careless hand, with which I used to tie up the last sheaves before a shower. But it is too late now to waver: and if I have not one kind look save yours, I hope I may have the courage to say, in the submissive spirit of Medea:- Eatur-nihil recuso-merui."--Preface ; "Your gleanings are a better gift, than most of the heavy-legged reapers, who have had the field to themselves, have been able to make up from the first cuttings. They have been usually such a dash-a-head, bungling set, that half the best grain has been left on the ground. Besides, they have altogether neglected many little nooks and hollows. Nor are your gatherings any the less charming, or gift-worthy, that you have tied them up quietly in a corner of the fence-and left, too, some odd flowers among the heavy grain-heads. Only give the public the thrashing of your sheaf, and wait the result. Speaking critically, it is as pleasant a book as one could desire for summer reading-as pleasant as he will easily get, if he be unreasonable enough to desire a better. It comes to us, too, in a guise of quaint elegance; a somethin half way between the finical rudeness o the old style, and the hard monotonous brilliance of modern typography-an appearance which happily accords with the matter and manner of the writing, a mixture, as it is, of fastidious simplicity and quaintness, an intense love for nature in art, a quiet liking for the unique, an occasional conceit, and some touches of to affectation 'e like the old-looking title-page;- there is as much difference in title-pages, as in the tying of different persons' cravats-we like the apt motto from Herodotus-we like the little vignette, a simple sheaf of grain, not too bulky, tied with a wisp of its own straw-an unaffected emblem of the author's modest "gleanings," which he has gathered wanderingly, at random, and bound them up under the shadow of a tree, with an air of indolent nicety. We like, too, the dividing of his briefly-noticed topics, by neither chapter or figure, but plain cap. tions and a large plain initial-a style of the last century, unassuming and beautiful enough to be brought back again for books of a certain kind...He has, therefore, in his jottings, a little more of what he has seen, than of what he has found out-he is more observant than inquiring-the reverse of most American travellers." ---CRITIC A. L American Whig Review, Volume 6 1847 ; Contents: First step toward the continent. Paul Pry. Torquay. The Inn by the bridge. The zebra. Saint Hiliers. The Island of Jersey. La Hogue Bie. La Solitude. The World of Paris. etc ; covers somewhat worn ; G.