absurd paragraph, we believe, to try a friend's memory; Mr Melville has evidently written his unintelligible novel to try the public's patience. Of three things we are certain, namely, that the Panjandrum story is quite as easy to understand as _Mardi_; that it is much more diverting; and, the chief advantage of all, an infinite deal shorter. [6] _Kaloolah, or Journeyinqs to the Djébel Kumri: an Autobiography of Jonathan Romer._ Edited by W. S. MAYO, M.D. London: 1849. _Mardi_, which we dismissed from our mind when we closed it with a yawn a day or two after its publication, has been recalled to our memory by another book, also proceeding from America, although published in London; and which, like Mr Melville's romance, blends the real and the possible with the ideal and the fantastic. _Kaloolah_ (Heaven help these Yankee nomenclators) professes to be the autobiography of Jonathan Romer, a young Nantucket sailor, to whose narrative, during his absence in the interior of Africa, one of his countrymen, Dr W. S. Mayo, obligingly acts as editor. Most readers will probably be of opinion that the American M.D. might claim a nearer interest in the literary bantling--the first-born, we apprehend, of his own pen and imagination. But our business is with the book, and not with the author, whose name, whether Romer or Mayo, is as yet unknown to fame, but who need not despair of achieving reputation. _Kaloolah_ combines with certain faults, which may presently be indicated, some very excellent qualities, and has several chapters, whereof any one contains more real good stuff, and ingenuity, and amusement, than the whole of the second and third volumes of _Mardi_, reduced to a concentrated essence. Besides, it is manifest that the two books must be viewed and judged differently--one as a first, and by no means unpromising attempt; the other, as the backsliding performance of a man who has proved himself capable of far better things.