attached to the Democratic party, though a respectable minority has ever been found in the opposite ranks. The great majority of the wealthy and educated are atheists or rationalists. They have the control of nearly half of the German newspapers in the land.

What will be the effect upon our institutions and character of the great influx of German immigrants, it is difficult to say. Our experience gives us almost unlimited confidence in our power to fuse heterogeneous elements into one harmonious whole. The Germans have thus far received our laws, our language, and most of our habits. We have been but slightly influenced by them. Our legislation cannot be materially moulded by their efforts. They have not the power to accomplish any great political undertaking. Besides, we confide in the sober sense of the thoughtful Germans. They see that conformity to the spirit and genius of our institutions is their highest duty and good. Their interests are identical with ours; therefore our language and customs are best suited to their needs. They may cherish the hallowed memories of their fatherland, they may study its sublime philosophy, they may enjoy its inimitable poesy, they may sing its thrilling songs, they may admire its learning and its arts, they may even speak its rich and expressive language, and still they may live in faithful allegiance to that Constitution which has so kindly sheltered them in their flight from tyranny, and in their struggles from poverty to opulence. They may labor for the maintenance of their genial life, but the idea of establishing a German republic within the limits of our country is exploded for ever. Such are the views of their ablest journals and their experienced men.

But the irreligious influence of thousands of German infidels must be perceptibly felt by the children who come after them. They grow up as Americans, and it is sad to think of the heavy cloud which will rest on their hearts. That is a grave subject of meditation for the Christian patriot.

If the Germans in America will only be true to the higher and more generous impulses of their nature, if they will cultivate those tastes and perpetuate those customs which lend so many charms to social life in Germany, they may prove of

essential advantage to the land which has ever extended to them the hand of friendship and hospitality. Already they are elevating our musical taste. If they will kindle within us an appreciating love of heaven-born Art, they will atone for many of the excesses by which they have awakened our solicitude. Well will it be, if we can unite to our resistless energy something of their unyielding and unfaltering patience. Well will it be, if we can temper our burning passion for the acquirement of wealth by something of that genial and refreshing spirit which stops in its hastiest flights after riches and honor to admire an image of the True and the Beautiful.

1.- Indian Legends and other Poems. By MARY GARDINER HORSNew York: J. C. Derby. 1855.

Ford.

THE author of these poems has been for some time known as a contributor to various literary journals. Her compositions have attracted attention by their grace of style and flowing versification, as well as by the earnestness of tone and the purity of Christian sentiment which are their leading characteristics. If we were to sum up the merits of them in one word, that word would be womanly. We are pleased to see these pieces brought together in a handsome volume. The lovers of poetry will be glad to preserve them in so attractive a form; and we doubt not the reader of taste and sensibility will dwell upon these tender and musical outpourings of a graceful imagination and feeling heart, with deep and gratified interest.

The volume consists of two parts, "Indian Legends,” and “Miscellaneous" pieces. Of the former, there are four poems, embodying striking traditions of the red race. The following lines close the piece called "The Laughing Water."

"And often when the night

Has drawn her shadowy veil,
And solemn stars look forth
Serenely pure and pale,
A spectre bark and form

May still be seen to glide,

In wondrous silence down
The Laughing Water's tide.

Of the "Miscellaneous" pieces, the poem entitled "My Native Isle" is a beautiful expression of the yearning of the heart towards the scenery and associations of the place of birth. The following stanzas are delicate and beautiful:

"The spireless church stands, plain and brown,

The winding road beside;

The green graves rise in silence near,

With moss-grown tablets wide;

And early on the Sabbath morn,

Along the flowery sod,

Unfettered souls, with humble prayer,

Go up to worship God.

"And dearer far than sculptured fane
Is that gray church to me,
For in its shade my mother sleeps,
Beneath the willow-tree;

And often, when my heart is raised

By sermon and by song,

Her friendly smile appears to me

From the seraphic throng."- p. 55.

The last two of the following lines contain a remarkably poetic thought:

"The skies for burdened hearts and faint

A code of Faith prepare;

What tempest ever left the Heaven

Without a blue spot there?"-p. 56.

The story of "The Vesper Chime" is very sweetly told. In one line there is a faulty accent:

"I always found an aroma."

Aroma should be accented on the second syllable. "A Dream that was not all a Dream" is very delicately expressed. "The Judgment of the Dead" describes the Egyptian ceremonial with much imaginative power. "The Child's Appeal," "The Dying Year," and "I would

not live alway,” are all fine poems, and marked by various excellences of thought and expression.

In general, the volume exhibits a fine sense of harmony and mastery of language. The words are delicately chosen, and woven together in forms of verse corresponding, by their quiet beauty, to the grace and refinement of the thought. We notice, however, here and there a fault of rhythmical construction, by which, as in the case we have already pointed out, a wrong accent is laid upon a word. This is a defect of execution, which a little more study and practice would have easily removed; and indeed, in all these cases, a slight change in the construction of a sentence or the form of a verse would have corrected the error.

From the poem called "Spring Lilies," we take a few lines of exquisite beauty.

"God, in placing her beside me,

Made my being most complete,
And my heart keeps time for ever

With the music of her feet.” — p. 146.

Since the above was prepared, we grieve to learn the sudden death of this amiable and accomplished lady, whose poems gave such rich promise of literary distinction. Several of the pieces, by this event, have acquired a new and melancholy significance. The following lines, from a poem we have already cited, express a wish, alas! too soon fulfilled.

It is not for us to enter the sacred circle of private sorrow, nor to suggest the consolations which the memory and example of her virtues will afford to the bereaved members of the family to whom her daily life was a high and perpetual joy; but we may, without trespassing on the just reserve of the occasion, refer to the loss which our poetical literature has sustained by this sad and unlooked for event.

2. Metrical Pieces, Translated and Original. By N. L. FROTHINGHAM. Boston: Crosby, Nichols, and Company. 1855. pp. 362.

16mo.

MANY and warm thanks will greet this volume; a gift of one who, retired from the regular labors of the ministerial profession, which has been for so many years his life and glory, yet finds time and disposition, with his industrious pen, to remind his former hearers and present friends of the preacher's welcome and familiar voice. He appears indeed in no new character, but in one he has worn from his youth up, when serving the cause of good literature. Of all that have borne among us the sacred office, we know of no one to whom more fitly belongs the honorable appellation of Christian scholar. Admirably has he combined the faithful discharge of all the duties of his holy calling with continual devotion to the entire breadth of liberal studies, ever uniting the stamp of learning with the seal of religious faith. This work, bringing together the genial tasks he has set himself at widely different periods and on diverse occasions, is like a collection of flowers arranged so that each lighter and more sober tint may contribute to the harmonious beauty of color in the whole. The translations add to the fidelity which the author's conscience requires, an exquisite ease and grace rarely blended with the true meaning of an original piece. For keeping to English ears the music of poetry from a foreign tongue, some of these selections seem to us never to have been surpassed. We wish our space allowed us to quote such a one as the "Song of the Parca" from Goethe, or the "Sioux Death-Song" from Schiller, by way of illustration. But Dr. Frothingham needs not to resort to a foreign tongue, or to any other writer, for first conceptions or completed poems. His own invention is ready and rich, and his thoughts are always clothed in beautiful and felicitous forms. One of the most uncommon of faculties is to write a good hymn. Such a composition, embalmed in the devotions of churches, and coming often on the breath of music, not only to the outer ear, but, with a sound in silence, to the listening soul, has immediate fame, while it lasts for ages, and is sure to witness the downfall of many a now notable reputation in the kingdom of letters. Such blessed fate, we doubt not, awaits some of his contribu tions to the sanctuary. Well do we remember how his hymn, beginning,

"O Lord of life, and truth, and grace,

Ere nature was begun,"

rang through the chambers of our mind amid some of the grandest scenes of the material world.