A well-known, and also imperfectly known, "nook in the Apennines" is the Republic of San Marino, about which there is a good deal of information in _A Freak of Freedom; or, The Republic of San Marino_, by J. Theodore Bent (Longman, Green & Co.) It appears to be partly the record of a visit paid by the author to the spot in 1877, and is illustrated by fifteen woodcuts from the author's own drawings, to say nothing of a map. Mr. Bent was presented with the freedom of the Republic, and we do not know that any one, except another citizen of it, or some near neighbour, could criticize his little book to much advantage. But we trust he will permit us to remark that he might have made his work more amusing and instructive. There is a good deal about the place in Addison, and this is referred to (among other interesting matters) in an article in Knight's "Penny Magazine" for May 31st, 1834. But, though we have not time to make references, we have a strong impression that there are many descriptions, new and old, of San Marino, which it would have been refreshing to quote. We know, however, of no work which gives so much information as Mr. Bent's. * * * * * It might be the subject of a very plausible doubt whether French novels of a high order ought to be translated into English, since those who are really capable of understanding and enjoying them will be certain to understand French, and since, moreover, the finest qualities of the writing must disappear in the process of translation. Then, with regard to French novels of a much lower class, they are not worth the trouble of turning into English; are more likely in themselves to do harm than good; and their reproduction in our language cannot tend to encourage "native talent." We have before us, from Messrs. Sampson Low, Marston, Searle, & Rivington, _The Cat and Battledore, and other Tales_, by Honoré de Balzac, translated into English by Philip Kent, B.A. (3 vols.) Perhaps it was not a bad idea to give the merely English reader some chance of appreciating the extraordinary qualities of the author of "Le Père Goriot," "Le Peau de Chagrin," and "La Recherche de l'Absolu" (neither of which is, the general reader may be told, in this collection): but Balzac is not a writer with a soul in him, and the experiment need not be carried any further. Those who know nothing of Balzac, and who read novels simply for excitement, will be glad of these three volumes, and the glimpse they give of an unique writer; but to studious readers Balzac's novels have an interest which is mainly psychological. The preface (here translated) to the "Comédie Humaine" is a strange presumptuous medley, which raises, like all the author's most characteristic works, the question of perfect sanity--a question which Mr. Leslie Stephen once opened very acutely, and dismissed too curtly. To have read through a story of Balzac's is to have passed through one