was a little like that of Concordia, under the likeness of which I wished to represent the Empress, as it was through her that peace was restored.

The Empress at this time had taken a little cold; and I took the liberty of telling her that it appeared to me she was not careful enough. That to go hunting in an open carriage was hazardous, especially in her delicate situation, as she was then enciente.

"You see her," said Napoleon-" every lady wonders at it; but the ladies," he said, striking his fore finger against his forehead-"the ladies wish to have every thing their own way. Would you believe it? She wanted to go with me all the way to Cherbourg, far as it is."

I said, she ought to be careful.
"And are you married?" said Napoleon.

parts of the original manuscripts to which they refer. In hopes that the perusal of these papers may afford to others some of that pleasure which it has to me, I send them to you for publication, should you deem them worthy of a place in your valuable magazine.

Your obedient servant.

My Dear Nephew:-You are now about exchanging the quiet retirement of a college-life for the busy world. Judg ing from the manner in which you have been in the habit of spending your leisure hours, as well as from the strong predilection for literature which you have manifested from early youth, I suppose that I shall not err in concluding that you purpose devoting no small portion of your time to pursuits purely literary. Perhaps I might add, without claiming for myself more than ordinary penetration, I know you intend becoming an author. Do not start!-there is nothing presumptuous or unworthy of you in such a pursuit. Most of those who have attained to great eminence in the literary world, have commenced their career in early life. The difficulties which beset the path of the tyro in literature, are such as nothing but the ardor of youthful aspirations, and As I had frequently mentioned the subject of my return the exuberance of youthful hope, can enable him to overto Rome after modelling the bust of the Empress, I again come. His mind has to be disciplined to intense and longalluded to it, declaring at the same time I would rather re- continued application; his fancy must be chastened till it nounce every thing than displease the Emperor-and ask-combine the correctness of maturity with the vivacity of ing his permission to return-he said, "Go when you please."

"No, Sire. I should have married, but a combination of circumstances, left me at liberty-and the fear of not finding a woman who would love me as I would have loved her, prevented me from changing my state. Besides, in being free, I was better able to devote myself to my art." "Ah! woman! woman!" said Napoleon, laughing, and continuing

to eat.

MY UNCLE'S UNPUBLISHED MANUSCRIPTS.

NO. I.

To the Editor of the Southern Literary Messenger:

youth; the language in which he writes must be made so perfectly familiar, that he can at once select the very words which will best express his idea: and he who imagines that all this can be accomplished without much study, and many a wearisome hour of preparatory labor, knows but little of the real difficulty of the task. The unpractised sculptor may chip out from a block of marble a rude resemblance of the human form; but it is only by long and often painful discipline, that he can learn to wield the chisel with the skill of a Praxitiles.

The accompanying manuscripts were sent me some years since by an honored uncle now no more. From the time at which I first began to think for myself on literary For youth, the future has a charm which it does not possubjects, I felt a strong desire to become acquainted with sess for men of riper years. As Montgomery has well rethe secret history of some author. I longed to be admitted marked, "the poetry of youth is all comprised in the short into that close companionship which would enable me to sentence-when I am a man.'" Such is doubtless the case ascertain the object which he had in view in writing each of with you. Even in the quiet groves of Academus, your his several pieces-the manner in which he composed-the ears have caught the low murmurs of the distant ocean, and difficulties he encountered; in fine, to trace them in every you long to launch your bark upon its troubled waters. step of their progress, from the moment when first conceived, Hope's whispers are of a fair land beyond the sea—a land to that in which, having reached maturity, they were pre-of fruit and flowers, of hill and dale-a land blessed with sented to the world. From the little experience which I refreshing showers and glorious sunshine; and, heeding her had gathered from my own attempts at composition, I was whispers, you long to spread your sails, and flee away. Far satisfied that there was much in the history of every finished be it from me to say one word which may dissuade you literary production never seen by the eyes of the world. I from your purpose. I would not have even a passing sharead with avidity the so-called biographies of celebrated dow cast upon the fairy-land, which looms up before you authors, and in return for my trouble, learned who were their in the far-distant future. Rather would I cheer you onparents-their grandparents and their great grandparents-ward; and, as you push out from the shore, I at least will where they were born-where they were educated-whom give you the parting blessing, "Sailor, God speed thee." they married, and other things of equal importance; but, for what might properly be called a literary biography, I searched in vain. Such was my situation when I received the accompanying papers from my uncle. From a perusal of them, it will at once be evident, that it was his object to give me just the kind of information which I so much desired; and, as he wrote them without any idea that they would come before the public, he has written with all that perfect freedom with which friend speaks to friend. I have hesitated for some time to give them to the public, least in Like all other authors I have projected many works which so doing, I should be betraying the confidence placed in me; I have never accomplished. More especially was this the but as custom allows me to conceal the name of the author-case in the early part of my career, when I had not as yet and as the pieces themselves contain no marks by which learned rightly to estimate the labor necessary to finish any their authorship can be ascertained-I do not think that my uncle, if living, could have any serious objection to my putting them into your hands. The only liberty which I have taken with the papers, has been to place the different parts of my uncle's letters in immediate connection with those

Whilst you are as yet necessarily detained, the story of the wanderings of an old voyager may be neither uninstructive, nor entirely devoid of interest. I do not mean to weary you with a detail of that which experience has taught me ; nor will I, if I can avoid it, indulge in the admonitory prosings of "garrulous old age." This I know would be useless. There are certain things which we cannot learn from the lips of any teacher save experience, and to his teaching do I commit you in these matters.

thing in such a manner as to be worthy of notice. Some of these undertakings I abandoned, from a conviction that there was an essential deficiency in the plan; others, because I did not possess the information necessary for their completion, and had neither the means nor the time for ac

quiring it; others, again, because I found, on examination, the living of different countries and different climes, he acthat the work which I had planned had been already exe- quires the character of a citizen of the world, and loses that cuted by other and abler hands. But more of this hereafter. of a native of "the land which gave him birth." Is he "a On looking over a box of old manuscripts some time since, son of Erin"? he becomes less an Irishman, and more a man. I found many of these fragmentary remains of the labor of In the following volume it has been my object--by writing by-gone days: some more, some less complete. With re- the biography of one "who never rose above the humbler spect to many of them, the circumstances in which they walks of life"-to give to the world a portraiture of Irish originated-the plans which I had formed-the difficulties character. If there is any people in the wide world who which I experienced in attempting to write them-and the possess a national character it is the Irish; and if there reasons for which they were at length abandoned-returned ever was an Irishman who possessed this character in perto mind as vividly as if they had been the work of but yes-fection, it was Patrick O'Kelley, the subject of the following terday. Accompanying this letter, I send you one of these papers, together with some of my reminiscences of it; and should this be well received, I purpose from time to time sending you others in the same way. I do this, in hopes that if you do not learn wisdom from my experience, you may at least have your attention directed to certain subjects well worthy of your careful consideration, if you purpose becoming an author.

memoir.

Patrick O'Kelley and Jemmy his brother, were two sons of old Phelim O'Kelley; an honest bog-trotter of the west of Ireland. As far back as they could trace their ancestry it was purely Irish: never had there been a cross of English or Scotch blood to taint the purity of their descent. Or to use the patriotic language of Pat himself, "his father and his mother before him were Irishmen, and of good Irish distraction; and so with the blessing of the Holy Virgin and Judy Lemullen, should all his ancestors after him be."

The accompanying manuscript, marked No. 1, is the earliest literary effort of which I have any distinct recollection, and I send it to you, because I think that its faults are those to which a young author is most exposed, rather than on account of any merit in the piece itself. You will doubtless be surprised, that a person of my grave character, should ever have planned such a work. can assure you that I have not always been the same grave person which I have since you were old enough to recollect me. If there was any thing, for which, in youth, I had a keener relish than for all others, it was for the ludicrous. You will re-lustrating his generous disposition and love of his kinfolks. collect that I am but two removes from good old Ireland; and, if I mistake not, a relish for the ludicrous is inseparable from an Irishman's nature. Possessing such a nature, I early stored my memory with Irish bulls and blunders of every kind. These it was my purpose to have connected together in such a way as to form of them a continuous narrative, instead of presenting them, as has generally been done, in a disconnected manner. I did not aim at originality in the materials of my work, but only in the plan. This is indeed an humbler kind of authorship than that in which the work is entirely original; yet it is the only kind of authorship of which such a subject admits.

From his earliest years, Pat was looked upon as a youth of uncommon promise. Whilst yet a child, he was noted for having the hardest head, and most generous heart, of the flock of little urchins which Father O'Leary gathered around him in his bog school-house. Many are the anecdotes which Father O'Leary has told me (for he was a favorite scholar of the good Father's, and nothing delighted him more than to tell over the incidents of Pat's early life,) il

The introductory paragraph, you will see, is written on a separate piece of paper, and with different ink, from the remainder of the chapter. This is owing to its having been written some time after the other part-as nearly as I can recollect, during a few idle moments of my junior year in college-when, if I had been attending to my conic sections, instead of frittering away my time in such employments, I might have graduated with greater credit than the old college records will bear testimony that I did. What induced me to write this paragraph, after I had abandoned the original work, is more than I can tell; though, by the way, it is not at all an uncommon thing for an author, after he has given up a work, and suffered it to lie untouched for many years, again to take it up and finish it.

MANUSCRIPT L

BIOGRAPHY OF PATRICK O’KELLEY:

OR A PORTRAITURE OF TRUE IRISH CHARACTER.

CHAPTER I.

One or two of these I will relate.

On one occasion Pat was saying his letters. "When he came to the letter tay," says Father O'Leary, "he stopped; and when I asked him why he stopped, he answered that he thought he knew the countenance of the chap, but räaly he could'nt call his name. To help his memory, says I, well Pat, what does your mother keep in the tay-pot at home? Whiskey, sir, says he. An't you ashamed Pat, says I, to expose the shame of the mother that bore you, and make her out publicly a drunkard. No sooner had I said this, than he seemed to comprehend the mischief that he'd done, and the poor child cried as if his young heart would break."

"On another occasion, he with some others had been engaged in a scrape, which I found it necessary to inquire into. Calling Pat up, I asked him how many were engaged in the scrape? Five, sir, said he. Who were they? said I-for, do you see, according to the old Irish rule, I was to divide the flogging aqually among them-Pat answered; there's me and Jemmy, that's one; then there's Phelim O'Connel, that's two; Dan Flanagan, that's three; and Jonny M'Murty, that's four. O, but there was five, sir! I'll count again. There was Dan Flanagan, that's one; then there was Phelim O'Connel, that's two; then there was Jonny M'Murty, that's three; then there was me and Jemmy, that's four. Well, I thought there was five, but there was'nt only four. He loved his brother Jemmy as his own flesh; and I could not hope for the blessings of St. Patrick if I whipped such a boy. So I sent him back to his seat, and divided his part of the flogging aqually among the other four."

age,

Pat's mind was very fertile in expedients, though it must be confessed that his expedients did not always answer the purpose very well. He had the true Irish singleness of purHis Life, from the age of one, to that of twenty-one. of years pose in perfection. When about twelve his It is in "the short and simple annals of the poor," that we mother sent him to the store to purchase some molasses find the features of national character most strongly marked. for her. When he reached the place and the molasses was The man who has risen to great eminence in the world, will poured out, he found that he had left the jug behind. "And generally be found to have lost most of those peculiarities where will you put the molasses, my little man?" said the which properly belong to him as a native-born citizen of a store-keeper. "And where should I put it," says Pat, “but particular country. By familiar converse with "the writ-in my hat," at the same time taking his hat from his head, ings of the mighty dead," and by continual intercourse with and holding it out in both his hands. 'Well, you are an

ingenious chap," said the store-keeper; and he poured the molasses in until the hat was full: still there was some left in the measure. "And where will you put the rest?" says the store-keeper. "Put it in here," says Pat, turning his hat over and denting it in with his fist. The store-keeper emptied his measure as directed, when, happening to cast his eye upon the floor, he discovered that which Pat had already spilled, and at once exclaimed, "Ah, Pat! you have lost your molasses." "Faith, and its none of mine," says Pat, "as you may see," at the same time turning his hat over a second time. The consequences of these various turnings of the hat may be imagined; but who can describe Pat's utter astonishment, when turning his hat on its edge, and looking first on one side and then on the other, he found that there was no molasses on either side of it.

necessary to grapple with and overcome the difficulties which every where beset our path in this every-day world of ours. The vexations inseparable from human life, fray it away from present scenes, and send it afar off to revel amid the glories of a fairy-land of its own creation; and never is the tendency to such wanderings so strong, as after the mind has been forced for a time to some business which requires the undivided attention. Or, to use the language of old friend Nehemiah," the man becomes an inveterate castle-builder; and the more you attempt to bring him down to plain matter of fact, the more he won't come.”

In the accompanying manuscript, you may remark many of the faults which an author is most apt to commit in his first essays. There is an essential deficiency in the plan of the tale, if tale it may be called. It does not allow of the Another illustration of this same peculiarity of mind, is af-introduction of a sufficient variety of materials to make it forded in the following incident:

readable. We can enjoy three or four, or perhaps even a "One cold morning," says Father O'Leary, "I met Pat, dozen good jokes, and laugh heartily over them; but beyond walking very deliberately through the mud, with several that the most inveterate laugher cannot go. The dullest holes cut in his shoes. I stopped, and says I, why in the work in the world is to be condemned to read a volume of name of all that's good have your mangled your shoes in jests through. The faculties of the mind, concerned in apthat manner?" 66 Faith, an't plase your Riverence," says prehending and enjoying a jest, soon weary with exercise; he, "I cannot stand wet feet; and as I found that the water and when this is once the case, to laugh becomes a pain inwould get in, I jist thought I would make a way for it to get stead of a pleasure. And hence it is, that after perusing a out again:" at the same time he poked his foot into a pud-page or two of a jest-book, the reader's gravity will be no dle, and holding it up in triumph, told me to see how asily the water could run out.

"On another occasion," says the same good Father, "I took Pat out a hunting with me. Pat had never fired a gun, and to try his spunk, I put in an uncommon large load. We had'nt gone far before we got sight of a bird. I told Pat to snake up as close as he could, and then to take sure aim and fire. The bird happened to be in such a place that she could'nt well see Pat, so he snaked up until he got within ten feet of her, and then raising the gun up to his shoulder and shutting both eyes, he blazed away, As I expected, the gun kicked him over, whilst the bird flew away unhurt. Pat was not a little astonished, but comforted himself with exclaiming, “Arrah, me birdy! if I had but had you at the other end of my gun, where I was my own blessed self, by St. Patrick she'd ha' sprawled you."

*

On a blank page of the piece of an old writing book, in which the above was written, I find the two following remarks, which I intended to have introduced at the end of the chapter, as philosophical reflections.

1st. A genuine Irish bull may be distinguished from all counterfeits, by the fact, that no matter how great the mistake, you can tell at once what the speaker means.

2d. Most genuine Irish blunders arise from looking at but one side of a question at once. The Irish see a thing in a stronger light than other people, but unfortunately for them they see but one thing at a time.

more disturbed by the best jest than by one of the moral sayings of Confucius. If you have ever attempted to read such a volume, you must have been convinced of the truth of this opinion by experience. Horace has spoken of wit, under the figurative appellation of salt. A meal eaten without salt would be insipid: but a meal of salt alone would be intolerable. Jokes, considered with reference to what logicians call the "final cause," are like cannon-balls, made to be used one at a time; and when so used, and then only, will they produce their full effect.

Another objection to the plan is, that the incidents cannot be made to fit together so as to form a continuous narrative. To return to my figure again; jokes, like cannon-balls, will touch each other only at a few points-you can no more form a continuous narrative of the one, than you can build a tight wall of the other. Then too, the story is too improbable. We can believe, that several ludicrous blunders may have been made by a person in the course of his life, but that the whole life of any one should have been but a series of such blunders is altogether incredible. These objections did not occur to me when I commenced the work, but I saw them plainly enough before I had proceeded far, and wisely abandoned my undertaking. The fragment which I send you, contains as much as it was desirable ever should have been written.

The language in which this fragment is written, may seem to you better than that which most boys would have You will see that this chapter of Patrick O'Kelley's life used at my age, when I composed it. But this I can easily is written on the blank pages at the end of an old writing- explain, When I was a child, my father had an Irishman book. In reading the biographical sketch of Henry Kirk employed upon his farm, who had once served in the navy, White, prefixed to a volume of his poems, which has lately under Nelson, and of course had seen much of the world. fallen in my way, I noticed a somewhat similar fact, stated It was always my belief that he was of a better family than with respect to some of his earlier poems, viz: that they would appear from his situation in my father's household, were written upon the back and margins of his mathematical though he kept the history of his youth a profound secret class-papers. Could we learn the history of other authors, even from me, and I was his greatest favorite. At any we should probably find that many of them have commen- rate, the language which he used was correct, beyond that ced their literary career with no better materials to scrib- which is common in persons in his situation. He had the ble on; and if I mistake not the character of information genuine Irish love of fun, and a perfect command of the afforded by such facts, in odd moments which they have Irish brogue. It was my custom whenever I heard an Irish stolen from their graver studies. The truth is, that men of blunder or Irish bull, at once to tell it to him in the best a literary turn of mind are apt to create for themselves an manner I could, and then get him to tell it over to me, with ideal world, bright with the gorgeous coloring of fancy, and the brogue and all the idiomatic expressions which properly thither to betake themselves, when they should be busied belonged to it as an Irish story. In this way I acquired, with the stern realities of actual life. Where the imagina- pretty early in life, some knowledge of what he used to call tion is so indulged as to gain the ascendancy over reason, the "Irish lingo," and indeed became somewhat of a conthe mind has neither the strength nor the determination 'noisseur in it.

scope for the exercise of its ability. Philosophy and Poetry are employed in a glorious work, when they quit the exalted seats from which they have taught and spell-bound the world, and walk with their shining garments and their calm brows, hand in hand with childhood and youth, along green lanes and upon mossy slopes, and by cool shady waters, and amid sunshine and flowers. It is no letting down of dig

mighty reasonings from principles which their teachers gave them. But whether this be so or not-if their pupils are never ranked among the illustrious of this world-they may be guided into paths which lead them among its happy-paths that end in radiant gates and open upward into heaven. And in the most minute existences, the teacher will find truths which may be imparted with benefit and with power. In every rustling leaf there will be uttered a maxim of morality, in every dew-drop that mirrors the morning-sun there will be found inspiration for a pious song, and from every pebble and every plant there may be gathered precepts of Religion, which will infuse a principle of action into the young soul that shall brighten the gems in its crown when it stands among the angels.

I have remarked that this Irishman, (and by the way, his name was the same with that which I have given to the hero of my tale,) spoke the English language very correctly; and I am persuaded that I owe my own correct use of language, more to my intercourse in early life with such as spoke correctly, than I do to Murray's Grammar, or to all the grammars which I have ever studied. I do believe, that if there is one practice which is more foolish than another,nity for them to do this, and the truly great mind feels that it is it is that of keeping children, for years together, at the not. These lisping tongues that repeat the wisdom which the study of English grammar, under the impression that it will learned and the skilful have gathered from the star-written teach them to speak correctly. The child will always scroll of heaven, or from the lessons of the legible and eloquent speak, as he hears those with whom he associates speak; earth, or from "the Holy of Holies"-Revelation; these lispand this he will do, whether he studies English grammar or ing tongues may one day be as trumpets among men, thrilling not. My objection to the study is, that it is of such a cha-souls with moral power, and startling them, until they arise racter that the child cannot understand it; and being kept to join in the great battle with error and sin, drawing their for a long time at it, is apt to give him a distaste for study altogether. It is true, that you may learn a child to repeat Murray's grammar from beginning to end; but after all this is done, he will understand no more of the structure of our language than he did before. I have more than once had my sympathies excited, by the sight of a poor little innocent, compelled to swallow a rule of Murray, by the application of a rule of hickory to his back. Perhaps you may think that I "speak feelingly” on this subject. It may be so;—at any rate, if it do not now awaken feeling, it once did. One other point, and I will close this letter, already too long. You may notice, that, in the title of my tale, I have used the term, portraiture, and not the more common word portrait. It is from the occurrence of such words as this, that we can often form a pretty correct opinion respecting Mrs. Sigourney has aimed, we think, in her works, to the time at which a piece was written. There are certain blend useful instruction with the accomplishment of readwords which spring for a season into unwonted popularity, ing. She tells us truly, that "knowledge, without a due and then sink again into entire disuse. About five and forty culture of the motives of action, may lead but to moral misyears ago, the word portraiture was at its zenith; since chief. It puts into the hands a weapon of power, but gives then its course has been retrograde; until now it is hardly no assurance, whether it shall be wielded for good or for heard at all. At the time of which I speak, we had portrai-evil." "The volume now presented as an assistant in the tures of almost every kind; among the last which I recol-art of reading, has a higher aim than simply to aid in eloculect, was Leigh Richmond's "domestic portraiture;" a book tion, or declamation." So far as we can judge from a parpublished about fifteen years ago. I mention this fact, be- tial perusal of these books, well has she achieved her obcause a knowledge of it may be of service to you in your ject. There are lessons strewn along their pages, that not literary researches and let me add one piece of advice,- only "boys" and "girls," but men and women, might read should you publish any of your own productions, never let with essential profit to themselves. She has woven, among one of these fashionable words appear in your title page; others, some of the sweetest well-known flowers in her but leave them to those literary fops whose highest ambi- garland of poesy, with the viny leaves and clustering fruit tion is to gain the applause of the present hour. In the of nutritious prose, and breathed over the whole a spirit of course of a few days, I shall write you again. instruction and of piety, that imparts to them an undying Your affectionate Uncle. fragrance and freshness. Mrs. S., we believe, in these little works, has nobly discharged that high function of genius of which we have spoken; and has not only done as a lover of the race should do, but has stepped forward as an American, and a mother, and bestowed a rich offering upon the rising generation of our country.

MRS. SIGOURNEY.

The Boy's Reading-Book; and The Girl's Reading-Book,
By Mrs. L. H. Sigourney.

JAMES' LAST WORK.

These two volumes are worthy the talents and high name of Mrs. Sigourney. Genius by no means exercises its loftiest function, when it breaks forth in gleams of light that Henry of Guise; or the States of Blois. By G. P. R. James: 2 vols.--New-York: Harper & Brothers. 1839. have no power save that of dazzling us by their brilliancy and beauty. Neither has it achieved its greatest work, when Since the wand of "The Magician" was broken, we it adds to the living streams of mere intellectual knowledge-know of no writer who depicts the scenes and characters of when it strengthens the nerves and develops the faculties of the great events of history with more effect than Mr. James. the mere intellectual man. But when to its brilliancy and He displays to us in vivid colors the deeds of the court, the beauty it adds intellectual knowledge, and to intellectual camp and the cabinet. The strife of chivalrous encounter, knowledge moral instruction; when it touches the chords the robed monarch, the armed knight and the haughty baof the heart, as with angel-fingers, until they vibrate to pure ron, are the subjects of his pencil. and holy influences; when it enlarges the vision, by direct- He writes rapidly, too rapidly, and by doing so, must, aling the dim and earth-entranced eye to the true treasures of most of course, write much that adds nothing to his laurels. humanity and the immortal soul-then, do we hail it as one But he has attained a high and brilliant reputation, and has of the richest gifts ever committed to the keeping of man. doubtless earned it. We wish he would write less and deAnd there is no sphere where genius may exert this influ- vote more time to every book that he produces. We beence more effectually than in that of education. In train-lieve that the result would be better for himself, and better ing the young mind to discharge its high duties relative for that branch of romance in which he specially excels. to this and to another world, a master-spirit has a noble The time which is occupied by the action of the work

now under notice, is that in which the fair realm of France | Yorktown. We have the books in hand, and shall treawas convulsed by internal commotions, and divided by fac-sure them up in our library for future reading. The topics tions. On the one hand was the gallant Henry of Navarre, upon which it must necessarily treat, cannot be trite or unon the other the bold Henry of Guise, and on the throne important. The adventures of that gallant band which the effeminate Henry III, who had in his course so falsified came to our rescue in the day of peril and of war-the the promise of his earlier years. The stirring events upon thoughts, the feelings, the deeds of any one of their numwhich the novel is based, are well adapted to the pen of Mr. | ber, during the time in which they sojourned with us-must James. We are here presented with a picture of the popu- interest every American reader; and the transactions of lar tumult in Paris, when the hand of Guise was upon the that stormy period when "France got drunk on blood and crown itself, and with the assassination of that great head vomited crime," are enwrapped in a terrible grandeur, and of the League. The hero of the work we take to be Charles filled with tongues that utter solemn teachings for humanity, of Montsoreau, the count of Logeres. The heroine is Marié and as they glide by us, we cannot be inattentive or unClairvaut, a relative of the Duke of Guise. There are moved. The memoirs of Count Dumas, contain the relaother characters who play prominent parts-Gaspar of Mont-tion of an eye-witness to, and a sharer in, many at least of soreau-René Villequier-Ignati, an Italian boy-the Abbe Boisguerin, and the queen-mother, Catherine de Medici. We have read a great portion of the work, and have been much pleased with it. The story is interesting, and the plot well conducted. You find also, as an excellent trait in its character, no vague and skeptical aphorisms, no secret undermining of religion and virtue; nothing, as far as we recollect, but what is calculated to aid in forming those just notions of things, which it will be the aim of a good work of fiction always to produce. We think that Henry of Guise will meet with a favorable reception from the public.

E. A. POE'S NEW WORK.

Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque. By Edgar A. Poe: 2 vols.-Philadelphia: Lea & Blanchard.

To say that we admire Mr. Poe's style, abstractly considered, is more than we can say and speak truly; neither can we perceive any particular beneficial tendency that is likely to flow from his writings. This, of course, is a mere matter of opinion, and we may differ, in saying so, from many. At the same time, the possession of high powers of invention and imagination-of genius-is undoubtedly his. His productions are, many of them, in Literature, somewhat like Martin's in the Fine Arts. His serious sketches all bear the marks of bold, fertile genius. There is the dark cloud hanging over all-there are the dim, misty, undefined shapes in the back-ground. But amid all these arise huge and magnificent columns, flashing lamps, rich banquetting vessels, gleaming tiaras, and sweet, expressive faces. But the writings of Mr. P. are well known to the readers of the Messenger.

The volumes before us, with a rather singular title, are composed of tales and sketches, which have appeared at different times before the public: many of them, in this journal. We have read but a portion of them. Of these, we like, as a specimen of the author's powers of humor, "The Man that was used Up," and "Why the Little Frenchman wears his hand in a Sling." "Siope," and "The MS. found in a Bottle," afford good specimens of the author's stronger and more graphic powers.

We recommend Hans Phaal to every one who has not already read it—although our remembrance of it remains from a perusal some time since. The "opinions" prefixed to the second volume, are in bad taste. We do not intend to write a critique, but merely to bring to the notice of the public, the productions of a talented and powerful writer.

COUNT DUMAS' NEW WORK.

these mighty events, and will, from that fact, we presume, carry a freshness with them, which cannot fail to make them interesting. But, except of the small portion which we have read, of course, we cannot judge. We direct attention however to the work, and recommend it to the public, as the testimony borne by the contemporary and witness of the most wonderful deeds, that within the compass of a century have thrilled the hearts of the human race, or changed the aspect of Empires.

MR. CALHOUN'S LECTURE.

A Lecture on the study of the Mathematics, delivered in Washington College, Sep. 5th 1839, by Philo Calhoun, A. M. Cincinnati Professor of Mathematics in Washington College. Teaching by lecture, is one of the novelties in our system of collegiate education, which has been introduced into this country within a few years past. As recently as during our own college days, (and we are not yet gray) a lecture, even an introductory one, on such a study as the Mathematics, was an unheard-of innovation. Without intending anything to the disparagement of the method pursued by our fathers, we may be permitted to express the opinion, that the plan of giving instruction by lecture, if it be properly pursued, and at the same time kept within reasonable bounds, (for we are not one of those who would banish text-books from our institutions of learning) is a decided improvement on the method by which we were taught. The student, who, on commencing any new study, has the nature of that study clearly explained to him; has an outline sketch of that portion of the domain of human science on which he is about to enter, put into his hands; possesses a very decided advantage over the one who is compelled to commence the study of, he knows not what; to proceed, he knows not whither. If, at the same time, he be treated as a rational creature, and have the reasons why he is directed to pursue the course prescribed set before him, we may expect the most happy results. Not only will he be able to locate (if I may use such an expression) his knowledge as he obtains it, but he will labor in a more intelligent manner, and with greater assiduity. Such appear to have been the views of Prof. Calhoun, in preparing the lecture, the title of which is placed at the head of this article; and it is to the nature and importance of mathematical studies that his remarks are directed.

The lecture commences with a few remarks on the nature of science in general. Prof. Calhoun then gives the following definition of what are called the Mathematics.

Mathematics, from a Greek word signifying "to learn," is usually defined "the science of quantity,"-the science which treats of magnitude and number, or of whatever can be meas

Memoirs of his own time; including the Revolution, the
Empire, and the Restoration. By Lieut. Gen. Count
Matthew Dumas: 2 vols.-Philadelphia: Lea & Blan-ured or numbered: e. g. a line, a surface, a solid, time, dis-
chard. 1839.

We have read but a few pages of this work, but have not neglected to proceed from any unfavorable opinion of it. We were pleased and interested with the portion that came under our eye, which was not much more than from the commencement of the first volume to the capitulation at

tance, &c. This science is divided into pure or speculative mathematics, which considers quantities independently of any subtigates the relations of quantities in connection with some of stances actually existing; and mixed mathematics, which investhe properties of matter, or with reference to the common transactions of business. The former embraces arithmetic, algebra, geometry, conic sections, the calculus, &c.; the latter, survey