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its sphere; these charming qualities, which she herself exhibits, she has impressed upon those characters which have been drawn by her with such vigour and success. But that which more firmly strengthens such qualities, that which imparts to her a generous sympathy in the sorrows and joys of mankind, a profound knowledge of the operations of the human heart, as well as the calm and lofty bearing of all her productions, is the deep and warm religious tone which gushes like a spring, refreshing and purifying, from her inner life, and, in all her works, mirrors her soul brightly before us.

Her piety has given her eyes for all the wonders of God in nature, as well as in human life, and has consecrated her a priestess of the religion of the visible creation. She observes and understands the mysterious and yet distinct language of the mountains and valleys, of the springs and floods, of plants and stones; the rustling of the leaves, the rippling of the waters, the chirping of the lonely cricket, and the song of the lark, "tone" sweetly in her breast. Her pictures of nature are so living, descriptive, and faithful, that we feel, as it were, at home in that country which she places before our eyes, as the field of the incidents she relates: they are landscapes, which, by their exquisite finishing, produce their full effect. Even when she takes us to that which is strange, the scenery peculiar to the distant North, the life and distinctness of the representation, give us so true a picture, that we easily and speedily accommodate ourselves to our new position.

Yet she never loses herself, nor does she fall into a deification of nature, but points emphatically to the Unseen Hand, which so wisely orders all, and of whose goodness the universe is so full; and to the one Spirit in which we live, move, and have our being. She acknowledges, and praises, and loves God, in his mighty works: to these she does homage, with devotion and enthusiasm; and she goes to them and converses with them, as if she were in a loved and friendly home; but, as with a clear eye, she sees Him in his visible creation, so, with listening ear, has she also heard his paternal voice in revelation.

EXERCISE CLXXVII.

UNLUCKY DAYS.

Frederika Bremer, translated by Mary Howitt.

IN the history of the world, we see unfortunate periods, when, through whole centuries, every thing seems to go wrong; they murder, they burn, they overthrow thrones and religions; and as the great always mirrors itself in the little, and the little in the great, so does man number, in his life, unlucky days, par excellence.

You begin in the morning, for example, by putting on your dress wrong side outwards; and this is a sort of prelude to the events of the whole day; you cut yourself in shaving; you go out to seek for people, and you do not find them; you are found by people whom you do not seek, and who, perhaps, you wish were elsewhere; you say a stupid thing, when you mean to say something witty; your dinner is bad, every thing goes on so indescribably stupidly; and if, on one of these unlucky days, you should take it into your head to make proposals to a lady, you would certainly come off with a refusal.

What happened as it should not at the President's toilet one unlucky Thursday morning, I will not undertake to conjecture; but it is certain, that an unhappy destiny pursued him the whole day, and that every member of the family was obliged to feel this, more or less.

Early in the morning, it began to go wrong with the happiness and the good-humour of the President. He was to go to the palace; and three little black plasters adorned his chin and under lip; and the friseur, who was to cut his hair, did not make his appearance. On this, he scolded so vehemently, and was beside in such terrible uneasiness, that I, in my distress, offered to exercise the office of friseur. The President said, "Heaven forbid!"-made compliments from politeness, but asked me, however, -pleasantly jesting,—whether I had ever cut a man's hair; and when I told him of my uncle, the High-Court Notary, of my brother, the Auscultant, and of my brother-in-law, the Burgomaster, all of whose hair I had cut on festal occasions, he gladly accepted my services.

He went into his study. He sat down to look over his papers, whilst I pinned a napkin over his shoulders, and be

BOWEN'S VIRGIL.

Virgil; with English Notes, prepared for the Use of Classical Schools and Colleges. By Francis Bowen, A. M. 1 vol. 8vo. 600 pp.

EXTRACTS FROM THE PREFACE.

The Notes are designedly made very copious. They are intended to afford so much aid, that a pupil of ordinary capacity and diligence, who nas studied the usual elementary books in Latin, will be enabled to read and understand Virgil, even without the aid of an instructor. The copious materials afforded by the commentaries of the old grammarians, and by the rich annotations of Martyn, Ruæus, Heyne, and some later German editors, have been carefully revised, and whatever matter they contain, suited for the comprehension of young persons, I have endeavored to present in English, in the most condensed form.

The Notes are also designed to point out, in part, the beauties and defects of Virgil's compositions, and to form the taste and judgment of the pupil, by encouraging him to apply the general principles of criticism with as little hesitation, as if he were reading a modern English poet. Quotations from modern poets have been sparingly introduced, where a passage seemed to invite comparison, in the hope of stimulating the student's curiosity, and of heightening his relish for poetry.

The merited reputation of the Latin Grammar by Messrs. Andrews and Stoddard is a sufficient reason for adopting it, as the manual of reference in all the notes relating to etymology and syntax.'

NOTICES OF THE WORK.

'This edition of Virgil is one of the most accurately printed classics that have appeared in the United States. In his performance of the editorial duties, Mr. Bowen has done all that can be expected to instruct and entertain the young pupil, who is too often driven through the works of the great Roman poet, not only without obtaining any just views of his poetical character, or feeling any interest in the masterpieces of the Latin muse, but with a repugnance and disgust for tasks that are beyond his years, and unintelligible for want of the historical and antiquarian learning necessary to their comprehension.

'The text of this edition is a very good one; the type is clear and handsome; the page well proportioned; and the book is, therefore, typographically, a very attractive one.

The commentaries in this edition have the substance of ripe and varied scholarship, free from all pedantic display. And the little summaries at the close of each book will serve to clear up and arrange the student's ideas, which are generally vague and uncertain from the piecemeal method in which he has studied the poet.'-North American Review.

'We have read a large portion of Mr. Bowen's Notes, and like them much. They are excellently adapted to make the student not merely understand the meaning of Virgil's words, but to make him feel all those exquisite touches, for which the poetry of the illustrious Roman is so distinguished.' - Christian Examiner.

'This is a work of very great merit, and without disparaging the other good editions of Virgil which are before the public, we have no hesitation in giving the palm to this. The editor is a ripe and sound scholar, of correct judgment and fastidious taste; independent in his views, and forming his own conclusions, without undue bias from great names. To his edition he has devoted a great deal of time, and he has performed his task in a conscien tious spirit, which has left nothing unexplained which required elucida tion. The great merit of this edition is its fulness.'-Boston Courier.

'It is a very valuable addition to the resources of the classical scholar. Mr. Bowen's experience in teaching has been such, that he knows where assistance is wanted by the young reader, and how it ought to be given; his intimate acquaintance with the language gives an assurance that the accuracy of the work may be relied upon.'-Boston Daily Advertiser.

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Adelaide saw this, she rushed impulsively towards him, and sought to stifle the fire by putting her arms around him. In an instant, her thin dress was in flames; and all at once Alaric and Adelaide were seen standing locked in an embrace, and enveloped in flames. - God of love! if thou didst so will it, forgive me for putting an end,- by a pitcher of cold water, which I threw over them,- both to the embrace and to the conflagration!

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Meanwhile, the President was busy at the other window, — and drew the curtain down upon his head, where the fire destroyed what I had left of his hair. He would probably have come off very poorly, if Edla had not remained steadily at his side. From the first moment, she had staid by her father, and had assisted him with as much courage as discretion; protecting him from injury at her own expense. When the fire was extinguished, she retired to her own room quietly, but much burned.

The President, angry and confused, looked at first like a thunder-cloud, but was pacified by degrees by Count Alaric; and now we endeavoured to find out the cause of the fire. Our suspicions fell at once upon the children. They had been trying various experiments during their exile; and their little wax tapers had been particularly serviceable in this way. Either they had really wished to try whether the curtains were combustible, or the kindling of them had taken place accidentally: at any rate, it must have happened through their means. We thought that the fright which the children had had, together with a severe reprimand, and the order to go supperless to bed, would secure us in future from similar illuminations.

The President's heart hesitated about the last punishment; but I insisted: Count Alaric joined me; and the President gave way rather reluctantly, saying, "The Count would have less inclination to send his own children hungry to bed." The Count made no answer to this.

Edla had a good deal of fever, the next morning; she went down, however, with Adelaide to her father, to fulfil the promise which she had given to Alaric, to ask her father's forgiveness. The President was touched by her conduct during the scene of the fire, and to her supplications he answered mildly, "Let us forgive each other our faults, Edla!" [The moral of the unlucky evening, the authoress has put into the mouth of Count Alaric, who is conversing with Edla, the presiding housekeeper, and chief sufferer, of the "un

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