are the subjects of his “Rubáiyát,” or quatrains. In the original these verses have no connection. The translator, Mr. Edward Fitzgerald, selected those which seemed to him most suitable, and arranged them into a sort of eclogue. This translation met with a hearty reception. Mr. Fitzgerald had been fortunate enough to make Omar Khayyám much more lucid and entertaining than Omar had made himself. An interpretation of the poem was undertaken in May 1883, by Elihu Vedder. The interest in the elegant volume just issued by Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin & Co., centers, of course, about these illustrations. There is not a line of the poem but what takes a new and powerful meaning under his treatment. Indeed, it seems as if in many cases the verses were but a key-note, the drawing the completed strain. The artist seems to have been inspired by the same sense of mystery, sadness, and final devotion to pleasure which influenced the author. His idea of Omar’s philosophy is most beautifully represented in the picture called “Omar’s Emblem.” In it life is represented by a whirling stream, upon which the mortal, under the form of a rose, has floated in. Along the stream the leaves are scattered here and there, while crushed and half petalless the rose floats into oblivion. This whirl of life surrounds what we may suppose to be the emblem which incessantly confronted Omar’s mind—a human skull; upon this is perched a singing nightingale—a sign of the music which in spite of the mockery of existence the poet always heard, and in which he found the sole relief for living. The pictures include a wealth of suggestion which only diligent and sympathetic study discloses. They show surprising fancy and versatility, while at the same time the finish of each is most perfect. Among the handsome books of the year must be classed Cassell’s new edition of “Atala,”[K] Chauteaubriand’s charming romance of Indian life and love. Though the story is far from filling our modern ideas of a novel, it is one of those rare, pure love tales which never loses its hold upon us. It will always keep its place with “Undine” and “Paul and Virginia.” The present edition contains illustrations by Gustave Doré, which, though inferior in some respects to later works by him, are still very beautiful pictures. Only a few of the illustrations of the “Atala” show that weird power and strong imagination for which Doré is so famous, but what we miss there is quite made up by the interest we feel in his conceptions of American scenery, of which he knew nothing except from description. These conceptions, if sometimes very incorrect, are still full of exuberant fancy. The binding and letter-press of the volume are superior, making a most charming gift book.