Roman Antiquities, by Charles Anthon, LL.D., is designed to furnish a consecutive description of the manners and customs of the ancient Romans, in a form adapted to popular reading. In the preparation of this work, recourse has been had to the most recent and trustworthy authorities; it includes the results of modern research; on obscure and doubtful questions it is critical and discriminating; and its style, for the most part, is remarkable for its copiousness and ease. Without being encumbered with learned disquisitions, it presents a complete statement of the points essential to the elucidation of Roman history. Its excellent arrangement and attractive style render it a work which may not only be occasionally consulted, but thoroughly read, with interest and advantage. For popular use, it is not surpassed by any of the previous contributions of the author to the cause of classical literature. (Published by Harper and Brothers.)
The History of the United States, by Richard Hildreth, Vol. V. (Harper and Brothers). Mr. Hildreth is making rapid progress with his great national work. We have now the fifth volume of the whole series, and the second of the history since the adoption of the Federal Constitution. It is devoted to the administrations of John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, bringing down the narrative to the difficulties with England on account of the affair of the Chesapeake in 1807. This period is fruitful in topics of great historical interest. Among those which Mr. Hildreth has investigated with the most exemplary diligence, and presented in his usual plain and forcible style, are the state of parties subsequent to the election of Adams, the struggle between Adams and his Federal opponents, the downfall of the Federal party on the accession of Jefferson, the purchase of Louisiana, the characters of Hamilton and Burr, and the growth of the commercial troubles with Great Britain. These are described with the same Doric severity of expression which characterizes the previous volumes, with scarcely a flower of rhetoric to entice the toiling reader. As an authentic and vigorous chronicle of events, we still deem this work an important element in the study of American history. If he does not rival the philosophical splendor of Bancroft or the sweet amenities of Prescott, Mr. Hildreth has earned a highly honorable niche among our native historians.
Travels and Adventures in Mexico, by William W. Carpenter (published by Harper and Brothers), is a record of military service and wanderings on foot, by a soldier in the late Mexican War, describing the manners and customs of the people of Mexico, and the agricultural and mineral resources of that country. The narrative is drawn up from notes taken on the spot, and although the author bespeaks the indulgence of his readers for his want of skill in composition, it is marked by such a high degree of frankness and simplicity, that it can scarcely fail to prove attractive to the majority of readers. He enjoyed unusual opportunities for the observation of the Mexican character. Placed in circumstances which made him familiar with all classes of society, he studied the strange habits and striking features that came under his notice with unsleeping vigilance, and has recorded his impressions, with apparent accuracy and good faith. The course of his journeys led him through various towns, which are off of the routes most frequented by travelers, such as Salamanca, Guanahuato, Guadalajara, Ahuacatlan, and Tepic, concerning which he presents a variety of valuable and interesting information. Exposed to the casualties of military life, and for a long time held a prisoner by the Mexicans, he has been able to gather up an abundant store of incident and adventure, which he relates almost with the freedom of a conversational style, but commanding the attention of the reader to the close of the volume.
Editors Drawer.
It was an idea of the gifted author of "Ship and Shore," the late Walter Colton, chaplain in the United States' Navy, who had witnessed many burials at sea in his various voyages, that a body thus buried remained suspended in a medium so dense that it was alike beyond the reach of decay, or destruction by the "innumerable creeping things, both small and great beasts," which inhabit the mighty deep. This theory gives an added interest to the following beautiful passage from a discourse by the Rev. Mr. Giles: "The Sea is the largest of all cemeteries, and its slumberers sleep without a monument. All other grave-yards, in all other lands, show some symbol of distinction between the great and the small, the rich and the poor: but in that ocean-cemetery the king and the clown, the prince and the peasant, are alike undistinguished. The same waves roll over all; the same requiem by the minstrelsy of the ocean is sung to their honor. Over their remains the same storm beats and the same sun shines; and there, unmarbled, the weak and the powerful, the plumed and the unhonored, will sleep on until awakened by the same trump when the sea shall 'give up its dead!'"
Few things were more characteristic of the colored servants living with the old families of the North many years ago, than their high-flown language, and the deference which they endeavored to exact from those of their race whom they thought below themselves in a dependent position, and even of the whites whose social scale was beneath that of their own especial masters. A friend mentioned to us recently an amusing illustration of this: Some years ago, "Eben," as he was called, a colored servant of Mr. A——, an old and opulent citizen of a flourishing and beautiful city in Connecticut, obtained leave to use his master's sleigh and horses, to take his sable inamorata "a-sleighing" to a neighboring road-side inn, a popular resort, at certain seasons, even for the élite of the town whence it derived its principal support. About nine o'clock "Eben" drove up, and throwing the reins to the stable-boy, in the most stately manner, he helped out "Miss Dinah" with an air that would have befitted a colored Count D'Orsay, and the pair made their way to the principal sitting-room, where a bright and cheerful fire was blazing up the wide-backed chimney. Here, having seated his "lady" in state, he rang a little hand-bell on the table. The landlord entered. "Is dis you' best room, landlord?" "Yes," replied the landlord, "yes—doesn't it suit you?" "W'y, yes, sà, it suit if dere ain't no better, sà. We want some fresh'ents—best you got; sumfin nice—quick: an' look a' hea: gib my hosses couple tub o' oats, two ton o' hay, and two bushel o' water! An', we don't want no odder company, sà, in our 'partment: don't let in no colored pussons, sà." The landlord, who had known the old servant before he had gone to live with Mr. A—— (a fact which he did not know, or had forgotten), said, "Eben, where do you live now?" "Mr. A—— lib wid me, down on de Plain," said "Eben," speaking very quickly; "but I t'ank you, sà, w'en you speak to me, to call me by both my names: I got two names, sà." "Ah?—well, Eben, what is your other name?" "My middle name is 'Nezer, sà, and I'd t'ank you to recollect 'im!" "Poor, faithful, simple-hearted 'Eben!'" said the friend who mentioned this incident to us, he has followed 'Uncle Ned,' and 'gone where the good niggers go;' but he will long be remembered by all who ever knew him. He it was who, on one occasion, when about to take a letter to a certain quarter of the city, and when asked if he knew where the house was, replied, "I wish I had as many dollars as I know where dat house is!" The sum was not computable by any rule known to arithmetic, mathematics, or any cognate "science of numbers." On another occasion he was describing an execution of a colored man, which he had been to see. "When he went upon the platform," said he, "he was extremely overcome, and I thought, at one time, dat he wouldn't survive!" The probability is, that he didn't long!
One of "Nature's true Nobility," an educated, independent farmer in the country, after walking over his rich paternal acres, amidst his "fields ripe for the harvest," and his noble flocks and herds, sits down and writes the following passage in a letter to a gentleman of this city: "The scene has changed on the farm since I wrote you last. Blades and blossoms have turned to ears and fruit; spring to summer; seed-time to harvest. The birds have changed their notes, and seem to sing as if from a sense of duty only. The trees, instead of being fresh and green, are only shady. Brooks seem to be growing tired, and gardens no longer conceal their faded flowers. The noon of the year is at hand. Even now we feel its sultry heat; we are dazzled by its golden light. Reapers will soon go out to gather the ripened grain. Store-houses and barns will soon be filled again with the bounties of God. Is it not a pleasant season, a profitable halting-time; a point of prospect, from which we may look backward and forward? Has it no analogy to the Present of our own lives—yours, and mine, and ——'s? Does it not bid us look to our harvests, that we may gather in season, and be furnished for the long winter which approacheth? Gather, I mean, in those great moral fields which God has opened around us, and filled with incorruptible fruits: knowing that they, too, have their appropriate seasons, and that as to them, also the harvest will soon pass, the summer will soon end? Let us keep in mind, then, dear ——, the great truth, that,