They have come!-mid the springing germs of life, Are breathed in the grove, When the youth untolds his am'rous tale! And they're welcome too, to their summer haunts, In a sunnier clime, Shall leave our woodlands sad and lone! LITERARY NOTICES. A PRACTICAL EXPOSITION OF THE GOSPELS OF ST. MATTHEW AND ST. MARK, IN THE FORM OF LECTURES, DESIGNED TO ASSIST THE PRACTICE OF DOMESTIC INSTRUCTION AND DEVOTION: BY JOHN BIRD SUMNER, D. D., Bishop OF CHESTER. New York: R. Carter. This work is adapted to accomplish much good in assisting to carry out the great ends of the domestic constitution. It is perfectly unpretending in its character, and is evidently dictated by a simple and earnest desire to do good. It is evangelical in its views, perspicuous in its statements, and tender and impres sive in its appeals. It is from a distinguished English Bishop, but is as far as possible from being offensive for sectarism, and may very properly be used by christians of any denomination in connection with domestic worship. In reading it, one cannot easily avoid the conviction that he is gathering the very mind of the spirit. MEMOIR OF THE REV. DAVID ABEEL, D. D.. LATE MISSIONARY TO CHINA: By his Nephew, Rev. G. R. Williamson. New York: R. Carter. It were to be expected that the life of such a man as Dr. Abeel should have some more permanent record than can be supplied by newspapers and period. icals; and the present volume will, it is believed, fully meet the public demand and expectation. It contains a somewhat minute detail of the events of his life, especially of his missionary life, which is followed by a sketch of his character, with which those who knew and loved him most will have abundant reason to be satisfied. Almost the whole of his public and active life was a continued struggle with bodily disease and infirmity; but he had a faith that was mighty to sustain and to overcome. Few men have accomplished so much under such adverse circumstances; and few have left a name more thoroughly and gratefully embalmed. WAR WITH THE SAINTS, OR PERSECUTIONS OF THE VAUDOIS UNDER POPE INNOCENT III: By Charlotte Elizabeth. New York: M. W. Dodd. Every thing from the pen of this lamented and gifted lady, is read with the deepest interest; and the more so now, as her earthly labors have been accomplished and she has gone to her rest. The present is the last of her literary productions; and it was written chiefly during a period of intense bodily suffer. ing, and by means of a machine contrived by her own ingenuity. It is only necessary to say of the work that it well sustains the reputation which her previous works had procured for her. A vigorous intellect, a lofty imagination, an earnest piety, glows upon every page. THE HISTORY OF A PENITENT; A GUIDE FOR THE INQUIRING, IN A COM. MENTARY ON The One HundreD AND THIRTIETH PSALM: By George W. Bethune, D. D. Philadelphia: Henry Perkins. This work is eminently evangelical, eminently experimental, and it can hardly be necessary to add, (considering the source from which it comes,) eminently beautiful. Dr. Bethune, more than almost any writer of the present day, unites the fervour and unction and evangelical richness of the old divines of the Howe and Leighton school, with a degree of point and pith and classic elegance that renders his style worthy to be studied as a model. The present volume is of the most unpretending character, and yet we regard it among Dr. B.'s best productions. It cannot fail to prove an important auxiliary to many an anxious and troubled spirit, and we may add, to many a christian and christian minister, in the discharge of the delicate and responsible office of a counsellor and guide. CHAMBERS' LIBRARY FOR YOUNG People; OrlanDINO, THE LITtle RobinSON AND OTHER TALES. Boston: Gould, Kendall & Lincoln. These are two beautiful volumes introductory to a series, bearing a name that has become identified with almost every species of juvenile and popular literature. The first tale, " Orlandino," is by Miss Edgeworth; and when it is borne in mind that it is the production of an octogenarian, it will be read with not less astonishment than delight. It contains evidence of what is abundantly certified from other sources-that there is as yet no waning of her almost incomparable intellect. ANECDOTES FOR BOYS; ANECDOTES FOR GIRLS: By Harvey Newcomb. Boston: Gould, Kendall & Lincoln. These two volumes are substantially of the same character; they consist of well selected anecdotes, designed to illustrate some truth, or to enforce some duty. They combine entertainment and instruction in such measure as to rendor them alike attractive and profitable. THE CZAR, HIS COURT AND PEOPLE; INCLUDING A TOUR IN NORWAY AND SWEDEN: By John S. Maxwell. New York: Baker & Scribner. The writer of this book seems to us to have shown himself intelligent, observ. ing, judicious, and impartial; and these surely are the most important requisites for an author of a book of travels. He has had many predecessors in the same route, who have chronicled their observations and adventures as he has done; but there is a freshness and good temper and point in what he has written that will, notwithstanding, deservedly secure to his work, a more than common share of public favor. ORLENDORFF'S NEW METHOD OF LEARNING TO READ, WRITE AND SPEAK SPANISH. New York: D. Appleton & Co. The Spanish language is becoming more and more popular in this country, both in respect to the reading and the speaking of it; and it seems likely, at no distant period, to find a place on the list of fashionable accomplishments. * Orlendorff's method," in respect to French and German, has been greatly approved both in this country and in Europe; and it is no less applicable to Spanish than the other languages. The value of the work is much increased by an appendix, containing tables of the regular conjugations of the verbs, copious lists of the irregular verbs, &c. CHESS FOR WINTER EVENINGS, &c.: By H. R. Agnel. New York: D, Appleton & Co. We profess ourselves profoundly ignorant of the mysteries of the science of which this book treats. This much, however, we can conscientiously report concerning it; that it is a good looking book, outside and inside, and that it is full of mystic figures and letters, (we speak as the uninitiated,) which make it look like a compound of algebra and geometry. There are a few splendid en gravings that are quite intelligible to us, at least as specimens of the art, and which, for that reason, our eye reposes upon, as a green spot in the wilderness. INSTRUCTIONS TO YOUNG MARKSMEN, CONCERNING THE AMERICAN RIFLE: By John Ratcliffe Chapman. Appleton & Co. 97 66 Here again, we acknowledge ourselves as not even learners, where it would seem we ought to be teachers or at least judges. But the book is well printed, is written in a good style, is full of "rifle equipments," targets," gunpowder," and other offensive materials; and we should not wonder if some of the feathered and perhaps unfeathered tribes had occasion to rue the day when it was written. A GOSSIPPING LETTER. SPRING is here, according to the almanac: but how the almanac belies nature in these northern latitudes. Spring!-what a practical joke on the poets!Where is her girdle of flowers, her breath of balm, her aviary, her sylvan music? You may see a hyacinth or a narcissus through a window-pane, a canarybird whistling over a Franklin stove, and even venture out for half an hour at high noon without a dare-devil overcoat on your back. A bachelor robin made his appearance a few days ago: two days after a hermit of a blue-bird, looking "blue" enough, was seen to "hop the twig." A curious insect crawled out of my wood closet this morning, rather hesitatingly, but yet as if he expected, You know the old maxim; "one swallow does not make a spring." How, then, can a robin, or a blue-bird, or a bug?" Answer me that, Master Brook." But do you hear that grave-yard cough?—that's Spring. Do you "hem" and hawk yourself, as if you meant to expectorate your stomach?-that's Spring. Is your next-door neighbor down with a dysentery, or a nervous fever?-that's Spring. Are you languid, vibrating between a shiver and a sweat, with an ap. petite at eleven o'clock and none at all at dinner-time?-Believe me, my dear fellow, you are a victim of Spring. "Etherial mildness, come!" and give some of the poets a look into your Pandora's box cf "colds, coughs, and coffins." Ah! Spring is a nymph, you say. I wish she would make a shift, then, to cover herself. Such a display of bare arms as I see through my window-looking at the trees-I never noticed at an evening party. Still, I like the northern spring. The blood really rushes with a tingling glow through the veins, if it does carry humors with it. The muscles, if they soon grow weary, feel a nervous desire to move and act. The air is very pleasant, if you are well wrapped up. Besides, hyacinths are very agreeable plants, even inside of a window. Don't you think so, Mary? Have you forgotten the day we put one out of the lattice, to allow it to feel the first touch of fresh air?You were handsomer then, and not married. Do you remember the verses, too? ""Twas out the winnock sin' yestreen, And noo ilk leaf, sae fiel an' green, A' noiselessly afore the win' Its tiny leaflins move, Like modest joy that stirs within The virgin heart 'o luve." But, Timotheus, you are not Mary; so, pardon me. Talking of flowers,did it ever occur to you, that every one is a palace to smaller insects than we are? It is evanescent, I know; but is not the same true of "The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself?" Yes, the flower is the scene of the life and death of many created things The lily is their marble monument; the rose their scented boudoir. The pollen of the blossom is the down upon which they sleep; the dew-drop their mirror. They breathe its atmosphere of fragrance for their daily breath; they amuse themselves upon and under its endless variety of color. They feed upon the yellow dust of its corolla; they drink honey from its inexhaustible nectaries: they climb its polished filaments as if they were the pillars of their temple, and hide in its delicate tubes. How we despise their ephemeral enjoyments! How then must our devotion to the pleasures of a transitory life (we, too, are creatures of a day) appear, to those who already live in eternity! I was amused by 's thoughts on human inconsistency; yet it is the most melancholy subject, almost or quite, in the world. Think of Solomon, the promising young philosopher, praying for wisdom instead of riches and honor, showing a deep moral insight into all human concerns, building a temple of unequalled splendor to the God of his father; then drenching himself in the lowest dissipation, and wallowing with the robes of intellectual royalty still around him, in the sty of Epicureanism. Remember Sallust, discoursing morality by the page, yet hoarding money forced by rapine and cruelty from those confided to his charge; and whipped by an outraged husband for an insult to his bed. See Sterne, weeping over a dead donkey, and then allowing his mother to starve in peace: Henry Eighth, the first " Defender of the Faith," the first to kick his protegé out of doors because it withstood his adultery: Sydney Smith, drawing admiring crowds to hear him preach evangelical sermons, stolen bodily from Barrow. Voltaire says: "Human nature is capable of every thing. Nero wept when he was obliged to sign a warrant for the arrest of a criminal, and—mur. dered his mother. It is just so with baboons. They are always leering and laughing, but choke their own cubs. Nothing is so gentle, so timid, as a grey. hound; but she rends a hare in pieces, and dabbles her long nose in his blood." Take some less memorable examples. You have heard, perhaps, of the Southern gentleman, who said that he should hate to live in New-England,-" religion is so devilish low there." At a certain indignation meeting of "Dorr sympathizers" in Rhode Island, an orator, in the course of certain lugubrious complaints against the "Algerines" of "Law and Order," exclaimed pathetically, |