Le Sinaï. Impressions de Voyages. Par A. Dauzats et Alexander Dumas. In one volume. pp. 458. New-York: Foreign and Classical Book-store.
Impressions of Travel in Egypt and Arabia Petræa. By Alexander Dumas. Translated from the French, by a Lady of New-York. In one volume. pp. 318. New-York: John S. Taylor.
The translator of this work, whom we see no impropriety in mentioning as Mrs. Edward S. Gould, of this city, since the name has transpired in one or two of our daily journals, remarks, in a brief preface, that this translation, which is made from the New-York edition whose title stands at the head of this notice, is altogether free; the author's style, as well as his French, having been put into an English dress. This course, in the present as in kindred instances, is we think proper enough. Discretionary powers are always judiciously vested in an ambassador at a distant and foreign court; and it would be better for the reading public, if all literary diplomatists were as successful in occasionally exceeding their literal credentials, as our fair countrywoman, who, while she has added words and sentences, and omitted sentences, paragraphs, and pages, has yet, in our judgment, greatly increased the interest and value of the book, to the American reader.
Of these 'Travels' we feel qualified to speak, as one having authority; for we read every line of them, from title-page to colophon, at three agreeable sittings; and although many of the scenes described were not new to us, having been made familiar through the works of Stephens, Lamartine, and others, yet there was something so attractive in the style—something, we know not what, which pleased, we know not how—that we followed the writer over his whole ground, with unabated enjoyment. And that the reader may be tempted to share this pleasure with us, we subjoin a single passage, which will indicate the uniform felicitous manner of the author. The following is from the description of a journey through a sort of Sleepy Hollow in the desert, called the 'Bewildering Valley:'
"We were in one of the most fearfully renowned wadies of the peninsula. It is called 'The Bewildering Valley,' on account of its moving sands, the perpetual changes of which, at the caprice of the wind, render it—even for a practised guide to be certain of his route while traversing it. We were surrounded by hills of sand; and the wind, as it swept their summits, became freighted with clouds of dust, floated around our heads, passed down our throats, and stifled us like the air of a crucible.
"At length, the hour arrived for our first halt. Our Arabs pitched our tent, and we looked for a brief respite; but the wind carried the tent away at once. A second attempt was made to fasten it, without success; the sand had no consistency beneath the surface, and the stakes could not be secured in it; and if they could, the cords were not strong enough to hold the canvass against the gale. We were forced, therefore, to follow the example of the Arabs, and seek shelter in the shadows of our dromedaries.
"I had just lain myself down by the side of my beast, when Abdallah came to say that it was impossible to light a fire for his cooking. This news was not so bad as the poor devil thought it might be: we had no inclination to eat, but a glass of pure, fresh water would have been worth a kingdom. The water we obtained at the Fountains of Moses was originally brackish; and this, joined to the smell of the skins, and the intolerable heat, rendered it unfit to drink.
"The sun continued to ascend, and now reached the zenith of its height and its intensity. Our camels no longer afforded a shade. I retreated toa distance from mine, unwilling to endure his wild-beast odor, when I could gain no corresponding advantage by suffering its offensiveness, and wrapped myself in Bechara's mantle. In ten minutes, the side I exposed to the sun was sufficiently baked, and I turned the other, presuming that when well done, I should cease to suffer. During our two hours' halt, I did nothing but turn and twist in agony. I was enveloped in my covering, and could not see my companions; and I had not energy enough to inquire after them. All I know is that, muffled in Bechara’s mantle, I was, to all intents and purposes, a crab stewing in its shell.
