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lose sight of the truth, that children are future men, and that he himself is but the initiatory master-mechanic, master-merchant, master-jurist, etc. It is his province to prepare the mind for its future necessities. For this purpose, elementary knowledge must be so thoroughly wrought into it, as to form some part of its texture: to become matter of involuntary suggestion, so familiar as to require no effort of memory or reflection. This knowledge must therefore be presented to the young mind as plain, simple, and rational.. Grammatical instruction has heretofore signally failed in this particular. What it has been, is a mere matter of definition and exercises. What it should be, is the philosophy of the language. Yet we know of no practical manual of this character in use any where. Language, it is true, has been analyzed, and that ably but in a manner adapted only to mature minds, and by a process, too, of unlearning the grammar of the schools. The Initia Latina does not assume to supply the great desideratum. But it possesses high merit in another point of view. It aims at an object not less important, while grammar is in a transitive state from mysticism to common sense, and necessarily antecedent to the introduction of new views. Its peculiar merit is, that it has fairly cleared away all rubbish. It rejects every thing unnecessary, presenting nothing which will not be directly comprehended by the student properly instructed in the grammatical reasoning of his native tongue. The chance is small, it is true, that it will find the student so prepared; but to remedy this evil is not the province of the Latin grammar. Grammatical principles are never taught in a classical school. They must be made familiar by previous instruction in the vernacular. Here only can the grammatical reasoning be illustrated by reference to points of language, with which the student is conversant in practice. The work before us contains all that is requisite to an ordinary comprehension of the structure of the language. The thousand exceptions and distinctions-useless except to the critical scholar-heretofore so pompously paraded, are fairly swept away. The simultaneous declensions of nouns and adjectives-the adoption of more plain and appropriate names—the rejection of the numerical arrangement of conjugations-and the progressive exercises-all impart to this manual much clearness and simplicity. Unencumbered with useless matter, it conducts the student forward by an easy and natural process-impressing at the same time upon his mind the principles developed by the way.

THE KING'S OWN, by the author of Peter Simple,' 'Naval Officer,' etc. In two vols. pp. 403. Philadelphia: E. L. CAREY AND A. Hart.

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THIS is one of those works which remind us strongly of the rich and humorous Smollet. The writer, who has evidently seen service,' has an admirable way of sketching things and events in such a vivid light as to make them almost passing and palpable before us. His pictures come and go, like the scenes of a panorama; and the interest one feels in the hair-breadth'scapes, the joys and sorrows of its various characters,

is almost unaccountable. Yet there is no kind of hyperbole with him; he never tasks credulity to its tension, nor attempts to take the passions by storm. His personages are perpetually moving; and to be uninterested in their movements, after being acquainted with them, is quite impossible. They buckle themselves upon the sympathy and good feeling of the reader at once. It requires no common mind thus to win upon others' intellects by simple description, in these days of meretricious diction and unnatural incident. We cannot analyze the plot, or glance at the events of the King's Own, further than to say, that they are marked with a very strong verisimilitude, and cannot be read with indifference by any one. The humor is often irresistible-and sometimes, perhaps, rather too broad. The latter charge, however, could not be made seriously, except by those to whom we might well apply the motto, "Honi soit qui mal y pense."

TALES OF THE GARDEN OF KOSCIUSKO. 216. New-York: WEST AND TROW.

By SAMUEL L. KNAPP. One vol. 12mo. pp.

THERE is a correct sentiment, well expressed in a paragraph of the preface of the little work before us: namely, that the botanist who discovers some new plant for food or medicine, does his duty not less than the sturdy artizan who fells the stately pine destined for the mast of some tall admiral.' Mr. Knapp's contributions to American literature may now be said to come under both these similes. Heretofore they have been mainly of the solid and unimaginative kind; but it would seem that it is not alone in the dry labors of historical research that he holds the pen of a ready writer. The Garden of Kosciusko' contains many flowers-and some of peculiar fragrance and beauty. The whole bouquet is formed as follows: The Provost Prison, The Maniac, The Blacksmith, Acllahua, The Troglodytes, The Tensons, The Lost Child, My Dog, and The Exile. The general circulation of the first story in the volume in the journals of the day, renders a reference to its merits unnecessary. The second is a simple and affecting tale of a young lady who became a maniac, by reason of the death of a young officer, who had been killed while contending with Macdonough upon the lakes for the liberty of his country. She had never told her love, but concealment was at an end when the dreadful intelligence of her lover's death reached her. She was finally cured of the insanity which ensued, by the cultivation of a flower-garden, in company with a cheerful female companion; and she was finally married to an intimate brother officer of the deceased. The details of this little story are simple and touching. The Blacksmith is not remarkable for stirring incident; but it fixes the attention by its unaffected style; and the valuable moral-the influence of well-directed Education and Literature upon morals-is finely enforced. Acllahua, is an entertaining history of the Children of the Sun-the Incas of Peru. The Troglodytes embodies some fine description, and contains an interesting history of this singular race of eastern fishermen. The Lost Child

is the longest tale in the volume, and embraces as much of various incident as enters into the composition of most modern novels. We make room for the annexed graphic scene. It is the rescue of Captain Elliot, one of the principal characters, from a horrid death, by an Indian woman whose child he had saved from drowning:

"Capt. Elliot, like the son of Alnomack, was bound fast during the day, with out any thing of food or drink. The shades of the evening came, and the hour of death was at hand. The yell, announcing the sacrifice, a sort of invocation to the spirit of revenge, was set up. The priests, or the fiends of revenge, led the victim to a large tree; and after stripping him nearly naked, bound him to it, and smeared him all over with turpentine, taken from the pines around them; then strewed a large quantity of birch bark around, at a small distance from him, and splitting some pitch-wood with their hatchets, thrust the splinters through the fleshy parts of his body and limbs, then strewed other small pieces of the same wood among the birch bark. The pile was in a circle around him, a little higher than his head. Over these combustibles were thrown green boughs, in some degree to stop the progress of the flames, that he might linger longer in torments, for their hellish sport. Before these ceremonies were over, the moon rose clear and beautiful in a cloudless sky. The Indians collected rapidly from every quarter, for the death yell had been heard through the surrounding forest. Capt. Elliot summoned his fortitude for the awful moment; he looked on the moon and stars as objects which he was to see no more for ever. The thoughts of his wife and children came over him, and a sickness seized his heart; a sigh broke from his lips, but no tear-drop wet his eye.

"The fire was kindled on the outer verge of the circle, and the dance had begun. The birch bark was crackling and curling with the blaze; the victim bit his lips and closed his eyes to commune only with his Saviour in his agony. At this instant, a shriek of distress reached his ear, and a female was seen, with desperate energy, combatting the flames with her naked hands; her hair and her garments were again and again enveloped with fire; in a few seconds others came to her assistance the burning materials were scattered, and little Monegan was in the arms of his deliverer, and Monongahela, his mother, burnt as she was, continued shouting and leaping for joy. In the wildest note of gratitude she told the story of the delivery of her son from the dash of the torrent. Her eloquence was irresistible the prisoner was released, and savage revenge was at once changed to gratitude."

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The scene descriptive of Whitfield's preaching-his situation, manner, and the appearance of his audience, is highly picturesque. My Dog, and The Exile conclude the book. The first is the history of, and a tribute to, a trusty animal, that often sticketh closer than a brother." The second points a valuable moral; and is a forcible comment upon uncompromising paternal severity-the hypocritical scrupulousness of an unfeeling heart. The volume deserves the neat dress in which it is presented to the public. A more careful revision of the second edition would remove several grammatical and typographical inaccuracies-the result, doubtless, of the haste which attended its preparation for, and its progress through the press.

THE TOKEN AND ATLANTIC SOUVENIR a Christmas and New Year's Present. Edited by S. G. GOODRICH. pp. 376. Boston: CHARLES BOWEN.

THE season of annuals draws nigh-and the 'Token and Souvenir’ now two in one-is early in the field. The contents of the present

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volume, which we have found leisure to scan but hastily, are on the whole excellent, and proceed from pens of established reputation. We remark among the contributors the names or initials of Verplanck, Longfellow, Sedgwick, Sigourney, Stone, H. F. Gould, Greenwood, Neal, Leslie, Thatcher, Mellen, and many other writers of note. A fine play might be written from the story of St. Catherine's Eve, by Miss Sedgwick, the incidents of which are highly dramatic, and the language and descriptions are worthy of the pen that sketched Redwood.' Bourbon's Last March, a dramatic sketch, was written by Gulian C. Verplanck to illustrate the march of the Constable Bourbon to Rome, represented in the third engraving, Bourbon's Last March.' All the characters and incidents are drawn from history, and woven into a drama of much interest. We recognize in Good Night, from the German, and The Youth of Mary Stewart, the hand of a ripe scholar and the diction of a practised pen. The translation of Mary's simple elegy on the death of her husband, in the latter, is the soul of touching tenderness. A vein of quiet observation and pure thought pervades The haunted Mind, by the author of Sights from a Steeple.' The Mameluke, by Grenville Mellen, illustrates the fifth engraving, the name of which it bears. It is as spirited as the picture to which it is annexed. The following description of the war-horse in the foreground, will remind the reader of Byron's dog with the tangled hair, matted with blood, around his jaws, under the walls of Corinth:

"a quick flame

Springs from indented casque and shivered steel,
As both are spurned upon his maddening way-
And foamy blood, with mingled sand and hair,
Gathers about his fetlock, bubbling round

As the red foot falls on some trampled brow,
Just settling in the fixedness of death,

And catching that strange paleness which comes on,
When the grave claims and seals the ruined brain.""

The Reading Parties, by Miss Leslie, is full of sarcastic humor, and displays that knowledge of character which has given celebrity to her previous sketches. Mrs. Washington Potts' biographer is visible in every page. The names chosen, like the personages of the Pilgrim's Progress, to express the peculiarities of the bearer, strike us as in bad taste. Fort Mystick, by Mrs. Sigourney, is an Indian tale, and we need not add that it is one of interest and well related. Childrenwhat are They? is by Neal. It has some of his most graphic pictures; many of his happiest thoughts, and but few of the incoherencies and imperspicuous, lengthened sentences, which are sometimes blemishes in his performances. But we must turn from the consideration of the contents to the embellishments.

They disappoint us. Have we no original talent, no original subjects, in our great and glorious country, that in our choice repositories of the arts of design and engraving we must exhibit copies of foreign skilland old copies, too, of prints which have gathered dust and yellowness during the summer in the windows of all the print-sellers in our principal cities? Must we depend for ever on trans-atlantic genius and foreign

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talent? No less than seven out of the thirteen embellishments to the work are of this character. The Title-page, the Mameluke, the Dream of Youth, the Young Princess, the Cottage Girl, My Child, and They are Saved, have been familiar for months to the eyes of those who will read the Token. We do not find fault with their execution-for it is in the main, creditable—but we blame this truckling dependence upon foreign imagination. It is high time that our annuals should exhibit something like originality in their embellishments. We are glad to pay a just tribute to those which do exhibit native art, in the one before us. The Presentation-plate, painted by Harvey, and engraved by Gallaudet, is a both in the simple beauty of the design, and in its execution. The best specimen of art in the volume, is Bourbon's Last March, painted by Weir, and engraved by Smilie. It is a most spirited representation of a stirring scene. The broad campagnia-the gleaming lines of Knightsthe castle frowning from the mountain, and the rich foreground, impart a character to the picture which might be anticipated from the reputation of the artists who designed and executed it. The Buffalo Hunt is a splendid creation of fancy, painted by Fisher, and engraved by Tucker. It is an honor, and a high one, to the work. The Silver Cascade in the White Mountains, painted by Doughty, and engraved by Ellis is as highly picturesque as such a scene can be made, without the very essential aids of sound and motion. The Mountain Stream, painted by the same artist, and engraved by Neagle, is soft, and finely executed. The perspective is something too abrupt. Will you Go? painted by Fisher, and engraved by Neagle, is a capital effort, both in the human and animal figures and the grouping in the foreground, and the exquisite landscape around, and in the distance. We commend the Token to our readers as entertaining and valuable in matter, and discreditable in embellishments, only so far as it fails to be original and American.

LADIES' AND GENTLEMEN'S POCKET ANNUAL, for 1835. pp. 144. New-York: J. DISTURNELL.

THIS Convenient little annual, useful as well as entertaining in matter, neat in execution, and costly in embellishment, more effectually mingles the utile with the dulci, than any similar publication with which we are acquainted. It contains, among other valuable information, an Almanac, a History of the Months, the Officers of the United States' Government generally, blank pages for memorandums, etc. In addition to this, it is enriched by a collection of original and selected articles of merit, in prose and verse. The view of the Battery and Castle Garden, painted by Miller, and engraved by Smilie, is a most lifelike picture of one of the finest scenes in the world, and admirably executed. The design and execution of the engravings of the Presbyterian Church, Murray-street, and of the Penitentiary at Blackwell's Island, are every way praiseworthy. The engraver, R. Hinshelwood, is, we learn, a young artist. He is certainly one of high promise.

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